


The Lost Dunedain

by KHB123



Series: The Lost Dunedain Verse [2]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Action, Adventure & Romance, Developing Friendships, F/M, Family Secrets, Fantasy, Fluff and Angst, Humor, Mystery, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Sibling Fluff, Sibling Love, Slow Burn, Thriller, Violence, dark hunter assassin, little kid OC
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-19
Updated: 2020-10-25
Packaged: 2021-03-05 07:53:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 52,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25347274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KHB123/pseuds/KHB123
Summary: Three siblings are pulled into Middle-earth after the mysterious disappearance of their father. Their only lead in going home is the Lonely Mountain, so they must travel with a hobbit, a wizard, and 13 dwarves to help each other get there. But on the quest, through perils, hardship, and friendship, there are dark secrets unraveled that will change their lives forever.
Relationships: Bilbo & Dainson Siblings(OC)s, Bilbo Baggins & Gandalf | Mithrandir, Bilbo Baggins & Thorin's Company, Fili/Maia Dainson(OC), Fíli & Kíli & Thorin Oakenshield, Gandalf & Dainson Siblings(OC)s, Kili & Kyle Dainson(OC), Kíli (Tolkien)/Tauriel (Hobbit Movies), Thorin Oakenshield & Dainson Siblings(OC)
Series: The Lost Dunedain Verse [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1837525
Comments: 3
Kudos: 18





	1. It Should Never Have Happened

It should never had happened. She wasn't supposed to be the one to suffer. She shouldn't have been in the line of fire.

A tall man with long dark hair and sad gray eyes stood motionless over the woman laying in the hospital bed, still as death, the cuts on her beautiful face jagged and splotched...but the breath support connecting to her mouth and arms triggered the heart monitor, the only proof that she still lived. The machine that was keeping her alive. But for how long?

Everything was mute around him, except for the sound of her breathing. The beating of her slow, steady heart. Too slow. It was a heart that should have been fast and lively for every minute of every day...most especially when he held her. When _had_ he last held her? Months ago? Before he left her.

He waited. For two whole weeks, he waited...for her to open her eyes. Her beautiful, sparkling chocolate-brown eyes that melted his ice-cold heart like snow near a hearth every time he gazed into them. How they glowed often with laughter and strength, how they blazed when she was angry, or how determined they were when she was strong!

He wanted to see her smile. Just once more. He wanted to kiss her, every part of her. He wanted to...

He closed his red-rimmed eyes and rubbed a hand over his tired face, feeling his small beard and sighed heavily. When he checked in the mirrors last, there were dark circles under his eyes, deprived from sleep. He hadn't slept very well since that day. The day of the car accident. The man internally growled with malice.

He knew very well that it was no accident. He knew very well who was responsible. And they will be coming for him. He will be ready for them.

The nurse had said five more minutes until visiting hours were over. Five minutes. Time had never felt so heavy until now. It didn't matter. He could not stay long. He had no choice.

Silently, he knelt at the bedside to watch her a minute longer. He took her hand. It was small and cold in his. With his other, he reached out to gently tuck a carmel colored lock behind her ear.

Carmel. Golden brown. Once lively and lush with waves that spills in wild ripples, catching in the sunlight like gold and bronze, now flat and still like her unconscious form, framed with cuts and bruised stitched back together from the car crash. Her face was pale as a ghost, lacking its usual peachy color that blushed pink, the freckles on the nose bridge standing out, every time he charmed her, or stirred her in any way with his intimidating presence. Her words, not his.

It was a miracle that she was alive. The crash had broken her, internally wounded her. It should have killed her. But he had found her, hearing the crash over the phone when she was on his way to meet him. Everything else had been a blur until he reached the accident. Until he had carried her out...called 9-11...then there was black, black, black with the stench of death...but she was alive. They had saved her. After surgery, she had been like this ever since.

"When had we come to this?" he whispered, stroking her head gently. His hands trembled when he touched her. "I only wanted to protect you. You and our children. I never meant-" He broke off in a whisper, bowing his head when hot tears streamed down his face. Taking a deep breath, still clutching her limp hand, he looked up again to see her face. "Forgive me, my love," he croaked. "I should have done better. I should have told you the truth sooner. It should be me in your place...and much worse. I am so sorry." He kissed her hand. Another tear escaped and fell on her hand.

After a few minutes of gazing at her unchanged form, the man placed her hand down and stood up. He then leaned over to kiss her forehead, inhaling her scent as he lingered. "Wake up, Laura," he whispered. "If not for me...then for them. For Maia. For Kyle. For Lori. Little Lori...They are waiting for you. They stay with your mother and father. They love you with all their hearts."

He hesitated and swallowed the lump in his throat. It felt very much like his heart. "As do I," he breathed. I love you, Laura. I always have." He forced a small smile, but it faded quickly. He had never said it to her before. He had always expressed his feelings with his actions, not so much with his words. Even back when he had met Laura, it had been hard enough to express his feelings through actions when he had been so closed off, tense, and wary.

And now he deeply regretted it, especially when the one time he finally tells her, twenty years later after first meeting her, and she is unconscious. Possibly not hearing him. Even more possible that she never will again.

Arthur kissed his wife one more time, pressing his forehead to hers. Then he whispered in a dialect he had not spoken for a very long time, "Boe anid gwad. Guren niniatha n`i lu n`i a-govenitham. Le melin, Laura. Novaer!"*

Then he swiftly left the room, forcing himself not to look back. Her scent was still on him. He would remember that like an imprint on his heart. He would remember her cheerful, feisty, lively self. In both mind and heart, whatever happens tonight.

For this could possibly be the last time Arthur Dainson would ever see her again.

* * *

Back in his old farmhouse, Arthur Dainson had all the doors and windows locked, barred with wooden planks, though he knew they would not do much good. He was wearing his jeans, leather jacket, and cowboy boots, his gun tucked away in his holster next to his knife.

He hastily went to the storage, shoving many items and boxes from the top shelf, letting them falling carelessly with a loud crash...until pulled out a long lengthened bundle.

Unwrapping the quilted blanket, the sight of its silver gleam stole his breath away. His grey eyes steeled with weariness. After so many years of hiding it, trying to forget it, unwanted memories came rolling back as dark as the oncoming ocean of night. Smelling of blood, death, fire...these familiar thoughts terrified him now, but also trigging an old sense of thrill like a flickering flame that would never completely go away. If grown any brighter, it burned. Too bright, and it would consume both him and everything in his path.

It was that of a fighter. A warrior. And something else far more deadly. Hesitating, he began to reach for the twisted hilt-

 _Rrrrriiiiiinnnnnngggggg!_ The sudden sound of the phone ringing jumped him out of his trance. Cursing for the loud noise, he rushed over in the kitchen and snatched the phone from the receiver, just to quiet the racket it made. _"What?"_ the man snapped in the phone.

There was a brief pause on the other side. "Daddy?" A little child's voice squeaked, sounding uneasy.

Arthur froze. The familiar little voice shocked him out ice-fire driven state. "L-Lori?" he managed to say.

"Hi, Daddy!" Lori sang out, sounding more cheerful now. Her baby voice sent warmth through his veins. "Whatcha doing?"

Her voice twisted his heart, crushing him, leaving him breathless for a minute. His four year old daughter, as if she was standing right next to him, here in the cold, empty solitude of his kitchen. Feeling weak in the limbs, he leaned heavily against the wall.

"Daddy? You okay?"

"Yes...yeah. I'm...I'm sorry, baby," said Arthur, trying to compose himself. _I'm sorry. I'm so sorry._ His chest hurt. Everywhere hurt. He gripped where it hurt and messaged it before continuing in a normal voice, "How are you doing? It's past your bedtime, isn't it? Are you alone?"

"No, Maia and Kyle are with Grandma and Grandpa in the other room," announced Lori. "We're watching 'Back to the Future!'"

"Is it good?" said Arthur.

"Uh-huh! I wish I can travel through time, too! I wanna see how you and Mommy got married an' all! Can we find a time machine, too, Daddy?"

"Maybe," he whispers. "I wish so, too, child." How a time machine would help him solve all the problems he had caused from his past...but then his children would have never been born.

"When you coming home, Daddy?"

Arthur gripped the phone and his chest tighter, as he slid slowly down the wall. "Soon," he whispered.

"Do ya ever go see Mommy?" Lori said quietly.

"I just visited her tonight." He tried to sound positive, even though it never truly matched the rest of his family's enthusiasm. That was on Laura's side.

"When's Mommy gonna wake up? I miss her a lot!"

"I miss her too, Lori!" He took a deep breath. "And I miss you, Maia, and Kyle. More than you know."

"Why'd you go, Daddy? We don't see you anymore!" Lori whimpered. Arthur dug into his jacket and pulled out a photograph. It was of them: Maia, Kyle, and Lori. Maia and Kyle were on either side with their baby sister, Lori, gathered in the middle, trapped in their arms. They were smiling brightly, very much like their mother. He traced a finger gently over their faces, wishing with all his existence that he could hold them in his arms, at least for one last time. "Can we see Mommy together? What if she wakes up if we're there _together?"_

Then he heard another muffled, female voice on the other. _"Lori! What are you doing? Who's that on the phone?"_

 _"Daddy,"_ Lori answered, sounding bright. _"He's gonna come home soon! He said so! Wanna say hi?"_

There was more murmurs on the other side. Meanwhile, Arthur was still staring at the photo sadly, until Lori finally spoke up, "'Kay, I'm putting on Maia."

Maia. Arthur smiled a little. "Thank you, Lori."

"Daddy?"

"Yes, baby?"

"Kyle keeps saying you won't come home 'cause you don't like us anymore. I know he's being mean, but...are ya really gonna come home?"

"I am going to try, sweetheart."

"You promise?"

"I promise." It was the truth. Tonight, when _they_ came, he was going to try to find his way home. _Fight_ his way back. Back to his children. "And Lori?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you. All three of you. More than anything. Always remember that," his voice cracked slightly. "Will you tell your brother, please?"

He knew Kyle was still angry with him. Eventually, the boy's anger came to the point of refusing to speak or mention his father at all. For leaving them. For breaking their mother's heart. Arthur didn't blame him. Kyle was so like him in so many ways-strong, feisty, stubborn, hotheaded, reckless, especially while mirroring his dark hair and grey eyes-that he could read his twelve year-old son like an open book.

Despite being at odds with each other, the man could not have been more proud of the young lad. Especially when also inheriting his mother's humor, charm, and wit.

"Okay, Daddy," echoed Lori, sounding genuinely happy, bless her. He chuckled, imagining her beautiful smile. Her daddy never said that out loud before. "I love you, too."

"Thank you," he whispered, as he heard her pass the phone on. Dear little Lori... _Forgive me._

"Dad?" It was Maia.

"Maia," he said quietly, his heart skipping a beat. She always sounded like Laura over the phone. A voice that always sounded musical to him. "How are you?"

"Fine," she answered plainly. "Movie night."

"I know. Lori told me." There was a pause. "How is Kyle?"

"He's fine. Well, technically he's being the same, old little twit throwing firecrackers at his neighbors and scaring the horses, but that's one way to recover, right?"

Arthur actually laughed. If he weren't feeling like he was at the end of the line, Kyle would normally get the scolding of his life. "Tell me I will remember that the next time I see him."

"Will you?" Maia said quietly. Her tone made him wince. "Dad, we haven't seen you in seven months, and you only called twice. Tonight doesn't count, because _Lori_ was the one who called you. Even after Mom's accident, we still hadn't seen you, and _you're_ the one who brought her in. You're always some place else. It doesn't make any sense!"

Arthur sighed heavily. "It's complicated, Maia."

Maia made a small, stammering sound. Dear Maia. "Are you-I-I mean, not-not that I would believe it-but are you with someone?"

"No," he replied. He may have lied to them before, but at least he was happy to not lie about this one. "I swear that there is no one else, Maia. I had no intention of leaving you behind...but I had to."

"Then why? Dad, what's going on?"

He was about speak when then came a loud thumping from the front door. Then the thumping came from the boarded windows. Then the roof. The thumping, the splintering of the wood, was everywhere. There was a chorus of loud shrieks, like that of a pack of animals. He knew that sound like the back of his hand, the hair on his scalp rising at their call.

Arthur leapt to his feet and was instantly in the living room. From the bundled cloth on the small square table, he yanked out a long, lethal sword from its sheath with his free hand. One of the twin black swords.

"What was that?" Maia demanded, who must be hearing the noises from the phone. "Dad-"

"Maia, listen to me! No matter what happens, you have to look after your brother and sister. You are responsible for them."

"Are you at the farmhouse? That sounds like the farmhouse." There was a shattering of windows, followed by the multiple crushing sounds of wooden boards. Through one of them, a hideous deformed face with beady yellow eyes snarled at him, showing its sharp, jagged teeth as it tried to crawl through-only to be swiftly stabbed in the face by the sword. He felt the familiar crunch of bone and flesh as he pulled back, the body dropping heavily to the floor while more started charging.

Maia was still talking, "Look, Dad, I'm going to drive over and-"

"NO! DO NOT COME OVER!" Arthur bellowed in the phone, as he chopped off the head of another incoming creature. "DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME? DO NOT COME OVER!"

Then they came: crashing through all the windows, the door, and even the roof.

Orcs. They charged at him from all sides, but he was ready.

He was capable of slicing them down all with one twin sword, the phone in his other hand, swinging it gracefully through the air while making slightest ringing sound that filled his ears with a deadly tune. The orcs charged and they fell-the blind, predictable, and disgusting fools!

One swung its sword, clipping his shoulder, but Arthur moved with the blow, flipping backward across the couch before swinging his blade upward, severing the orc from beneath the chin.

It seemed like time had passed when Arthur fought the orcs with grace and determination, bearing no more than a couple of nicks (not poisoned, thankfully) and a bloody nose from direct punch. He was rusty, but none that came at him survived. Every time they even attempted to attack him, they met the single stroke of his blade as though it were the stroke of death itself. A death stroke. Mangled bodies piled around the house and quickly lifted an odor that reeked of tar, filth, blood, and decay.

As he butchered them, knifed them, and even shot at the them until he used all his rounds, a predatory grin appeared on his face, as a sly thought occurred to him: if he survived this, he would have to burn the house to the ground. Cover the evidence, before the police find out. His family...

 _My family._ His grin faded, while staggered another orc tackled him, clawing at his hair. With a snarl, he gripped the orc's horny armor, flipped it over, and snapped its neck. Panting, covered in sweat and black orc blood, he began to stand up-

A sudden burst of flame exploded in his right shoulder, hitting him with a heavy force that made him cry out. He stumbled and felt his back hit the wall. Spots covered his vision. His body felt heavy as a mountain crushing him downward. Through his deafening haze, hearing heart pounding from the waves of agony, he slowly turn his head right and groaned when seeing a long, black arrow sticking out of his right side.

As his vision became foggy, his eyes fell upon his sword, which was sprawled across the wooden-planked floor, stained heavily of thick orc blood. Next to it was the kitchen phone, also splattered, and still buzzing with Maia's voice yelling, _"Dad? Dad! Oh, my God! Dad! No-I-I-I don't know-h-he didn't hung up, but he's not answering! Dad! Please, answer! Daddy!"_ Her voice broke into a panicked sob.

There were heavy, purposeful footstep coming this way. Before Arthur would look up, the voice changed in the speaker, _"Dad! Dad, are you there? Can you hear me? We're freaking out here, Dad, what's going on? IS ANYONE THERE?"_

 _"Kyle,"_ his lips formed. At the sound of his son's voice, finally speaking to him after so long, his fingers twitching as he tried to reach the phone, but his body was so heavy and so full of fire that he slumped back down. A groan escaped him, his mouth tasting blood like copper.

Large heavy boots appeared in his vision, bearing thick, muscular legs that paled like moonstones, but decorated with lines of scar tissue from many battles. The owner had heavy breathing like that of a wild beast, and this was only when he was calm. Arthur's stomach dropped in dread.

_No, it can't be._

A thick, pale hand reached down and picked up the phone, which was still buzzing with Kyle's shouting. Arthur, blinking away the mistiness in his vision, his body trembling from painful spasms of the arrow in his shoulder, slowly forced his chin up to meet the face of the orc. He had hoped he was wrong, that his wound was only making him delirious, but the sight of the huge intruder standing over him, holding the phone near his scarred facade, listening with a predatory grin on his wolfish face to the sound of Kyle's continuous demands, " _Hello? Who is this? Where's my dad? Hello?",_ was all too real, bringing back the memories of his past like the fire seizing his body.

 _"Hey! I can hear you breathing, you creep! Where the hell is my father?!"_ Kyle was now yelling. _"I'm talking to you-"_

The huge pale orc crushed the phone with his bare hand. Kyle's voice was gone.

"You!" Arthur managed to gasp. He struggled to sit up straight, grunting as the arrow shifted and sent another wave of dizzying agony. "How-it's impossible-it can't be..."

Azog the Defiler chuckled menacingly, dropping the remains of the broken phone on the floor. Then he knelt down at Arthur's level, ice-blue inhuman eyes staring right into his gray ones like a wolf eyeing its prey. Arthur did not look away. Even when vulnerable before one of the dangerous beings he had ever met, he would not break.

"I am very much real, boy! Real as the arrow stuck in your hide," Azog sneered in Black Speech. The pale orc then lifted his other arm, which now to Arthur's shock was replaced with an iron claw. A gesture shortened the tale. The claw that tucked dangerously under the man's chin, pressing against his throat.

"Did you really believe that our Master would not be able to search you out? That you were the only one who would find a way to escape his sight?"

Arthur spat out blood in Azog's face, his face twisted in a predatory snarl. "Go eat Warg shit, Defiler!" he hissed in Black Speech. Azog growled menacingly and trapped the man's throat, while raising his claw.

"For your cowardice, Aravir Matum-sorgh, and your defiance...you shall know the true meaning of _fear_."


	2. The Dainson Siblings

_Eight months later..._

"You are a real, pea-brained idiot, you know that!" Maia exclaimed, as she drove her red car-or rather, her mom's red car-through the dark of the freeway. Her kid brother was slouching in the front seat next to her, glaring out the window, silent. "I mean, what the hell, Kyle? You couldn't even be discreet about it, and not to mention from other people?!"

"That would kind of miss the point of the prank," mumbled Kyle. "All the guys thought it was funny-"

"Jeez, Kyle! That was supposed to be _my_ night to celebrate! I got into Baylor, for Christ's sake! I've been waiting for this acceptance letter for freaking months, and I finally get it, am even willing to take you guys with me to the HoeDown fair, thought it would be fun! But noooo! I get screwed over by your buddies' evil firecrackers- _Kyle!"_ Her brother flinched away from her barking outburst, slightly freaked out. He had been mimicking her lectures with his hand like a puppet and was caught.

"This is really typical of you!" groaned Maia. "Real mature! You're thirteen, for crying out loud!"

"Kind of has a nice ring to it, don't you think?" Kyle said, trying to sound chipper. "C'mon, sis! Your prissy ex was all over you, and you know it! So in case you don't see the bigger picture, I chose that moment just to scare him off! And _you_ thought it was funny, too!"

"I did not!"

"Yeah, you did! I saw you smile, admit it! You enjoyed watching him dance!"

Maia glared back at him, keeping her face angry, despite biting back the rising tide of giggles in her chest. "Did not!"

"Like Bugs Bunny in a bar brawl with Yosemite Sam!" he kept teasing.

Then Maia snorted at that, but quickly stopped when seeing Kyle brighten up. "Oh, shut up!" she protested, reaching over to smack his arm but missed. Kyle sniggered. "Jerk!"

"Stiff!"

"Punk-ass!"

"WATCH THE ROAD!" Kyle shouted suddenly, reaching over and grabbing the wheel. Startled, Maia looked up, cursing, and then screamed along with the boy as she swerved in a wide arc to avoid a large truck, which had stopped in suddenly in the _middle_ of the freeway in front of them.

After a few seconds of wobbling, Maia straightened out. Both she and Kyle stared ahead, wide-eyed and white-faced, their breath lost. After a long, uncomfortable silence, Kyle stuttered out an outburst, twisting to look behind his seat, "ASS. _HOLE!"_

Maia flexed her tightened grip on the wheel, willing herself to relax her body and take a deep breath. Eyes on the road. Then the review mirror. From the reflection, her little sister Lori was staring back from her booster, now awake, clutching her teddy bear like a life preserver with her brown eyes wide, startled from her deep sleep. Her thumb remained in her mouth.

"S-sorry," Maia gasped. "I'm sorry."

"It was that moron's fault," Kyle assured her quietly, sounding just as shaken as she was.

"Still..." They were all thinking the same thing, even little Lori. _Nighttime. Accident. Bloody, half-dead body of their mother._ A terrible event that happened eight months ago, still imprinted in their minds like a scar, that had at times made them a little wary of driving ever since.

_I'm an idiot! I'm a stupid, stupid, stupid, lame, pathetic, and careless human being! I'm such a crappy sister!_ The thoughts rolled over in her head like a fiery tantrum. Thoughts like these came when guilt started to take over, especially when concerning the well-being of her younger siblings, and she would use the words in her head to lecture her mind and body to get a grip, stay focused, and don't break in front of them. She was the big sister. She was in charge. She was responsible for them.

_Maia, listen to me! No matter what happens, you have to look after your brother and sister. You're responsible for them._

"Anyway," Maia started, forcing a calm mask to replace her guilt and previous annoyance at her brother, "I was thinking that before we sleep over at Dad's ranch, we should stop be to see Mom."

"Really?" Lori piped up, looking happy.

"Really?" said Kyle, looking uneasy. "You sure visiting hours aren't over around this time?"

"Not for another half hour. We'll be there in a minute anyway. We'll just make it a quick stop, okay?"

"Mmph." Kyle grunted, and then was quiet until they arrived at the Houston Methodist Hospital.

* * *

The Dainsons have been to the hospital so frequently for almost a year that the kids got acquainted with the nurse at the front desk, Agatha, who was also in charge of the care of their hospitalized mother. Having recognized them instantly, Agatha gave them a gentle smile and gave them clearance without a second thought, but not without reminding them when visiting hours were over. Maia always thought the rules were ridiculous. She made a note to herself to put this in a debate when she starts her first year at college.

The Dainson siblings eventually reached the room their mother lay in. Everything remained the same, most especially their unconscious mother, except for the three baskets of mixed flowers surrounding the bed, along with a stack of books lined up on the side table near the heart monitor (Narnia, Harry Potter, and Jack Reacher), and a small speaker playing Pandora from their mother's iPhone, playing Reba McEntire's "The Greatest Man I Never Knew."

It was coincidental for two reasons: it was their parents' wedding song (McEntire was one of their mom's favorite singers) and it was the karaoke song Maia just recently sang at the HoeDown festival this evening without missing a word. Not too long before she joined the dance floor and then Kyle set off his firecrackers he and his "pals" somehow snuck in the place.

Laura Dainson always loved music, especially Country. She was a true Texas-Forever woman, being a horse trainer and painter all in one. The Dainson siblings and their grandparents had always made sure that music was playing in Laura's room, in case the woke up alone and needed to be calmed by certain melodies. They had even instructed the doctors and nurses to keep changing the soundtracks everyday when the family was not visiting.

This particular song was a favorite of Laura's because she said it always made her think of her husband. Because her husband, before and after they were married, had always been a mystery to her. A beautiful and terrifying mystery, but their mom always loved a good challenge.

Their father, Arthur Dainson, and the love of her life.

The man who also abandoned her and his children, a few years after Lori was born. The man who had presumedly been kidnapped eight months ago, two week after their mother's horrible car accident. Maia and Kyle had heard it happening over the phone, proof that their father had been attacked and taken against his will. Kyle had even claimed he heard the kidnapper breathing heavily in the receiver, making him believe that the culprit was definitely a big guy.

Besides the farm house being absolutely trashed and broken, stained with black substance that had been mistaken as tar or oil, but had later been identified as blood (the type of blood was still unknown), there had been no other clues of the disappearance of their father. To this day, the police were still searching, his disappearance having a few times been mentioned on the news, but there was still no luck.

Trying to push those dark thoughts away, Maia and her siblings walked up near the bed. "Hi, Mom," she said softly to the sedated woman. "It's us. Maia, Kyle, and Lori. Just us now. Sorry it's been a while."

"Hi, Mommy!" Lori jumped in. The little girl went on her tiptoes and took her mother's hand, also putting Teddy's paw on it. "Teddy's here, too. He wanted to see you, like us. He says you look beautiful, and that we hope you wake up soon."

Their mother was indeed beautiful. Even in her forties, she remained the same, save for a couple of laugh lines. She was an older version of Maia: curly carmel-brown hair, high cheek bones with a few freckles across her nose bridge, a gentle face that could switch to a blazing one if it wanted, pink lips, and had a slim figure with strong legs and arms from years of hard work and horseback riding.

There were few different features between Laura and Maia: Laura was a few inches taller while her daughter remained five foot two, had Lori's chocolate brown eyes while Maia's were blue-grey (like her dad and brother), and the eighteen year old's hair was also more wavy than curly, topping with some sun streaks that made her hair lighter and more golden.

Maia never really thought much on her own looks, but nor did she think herself ugly. She just always thought her mother the prettier of the two, even when taking comfort in the fact that looking like her helped a lot. Laura always seemed to have more strength and confidence, years of experience and independence shaping her character, while Maia at times felt shy and awkward, even when she tried not to be.

They stayed for the rest of the twenty minutes of visiting hours, sitting at Laura's bedside, either holding her hands or running fingers gently through her curls.

Lori was laying down beside her mother, her little head on her shoulder, legs curled up, and holding her bear close, while Maia started talking about her brand-new acceptance to Baylor University, the letter arriving this morning in the mail she went to fetch. She described how she held the envelope into the sunlight to read the letter through the envelope, how when she saw the first sentence, 'We are pleased to inform you,' she went crazy with excitement and ran all the way back to the house to show the family.

Afterwards, she decided that she wanted to celebrate by meeting her girlfriends at the HoeDown Festival, but then she remembered her promise to Lori that they were going to have a sleepover at their dad's now-empty farmhouse. Apparently the five year-old loved the place, even when it had been the place her daddy had 'disappeared,' but she always held on to the hope that he would someday 'reappear.' Just like she held onto the belief that their mom was listening to every word they said while in her coma (not that Maia didn't believe it, but she sometimes had her doubts, and so did Kyle).

So they decided to do both: go to the HoeDown and then go stay at the farmhouse for the night. Kyle came along, too, mostly through Grandma and Grandpa's insistence, pointing out that Kyle should 'get his head out of his video games and do something sociable.' If _only_ they knew how sociable Kyle really was!

They stayed for two hours: Maia mostly on the dance floor, Lori riding ponies or in the petting zoo, and Kyle (after looking after Lori for a while) running into his friends who turned to be conspiring something.

Kyle then started talking, describing without hesitation his firecracker prank on the HoeDown dance floor. Maia rolled her eyes.

Kyle had long ago made it his goal to arouse his mother by telling her of all his mischief he would have recently caused. Be it firecrackers, throwing eggs at passing cars, spray painting any nearby architecture, spooking horses out of their stalls, driving the truck without permission, and even crashing into random football jockey parties from Maia's old high school (one time had unintentionally gotten drunk from a spiked punch bowl, in which made it a good thing one of Maia's friends was there to call her over and bring him straight home before he would get caught), Kyle was determined to get Laura Hayes-Dainson so angry that she would explode out of her coma and ground him for a year. Maybe even forever, given to the long-extended record of his troublemaking.

But, as usual, when he finished talking, she remained unmoved. Oblivious. Unconscious.

Kyle pressed his lips together, frowning, the disappointment so clear in hiss gray eyes, a sheen of unshed tears glazed. Maia swallowed the lump in her throat, feeling her heart breaking yet again. She could feel frustration radiating of him in vibes, connecting with her own. However ridiculous the ideas in her little brother's head could get, she sometimes did wish they would work. Even though Kyle could be annoying, hot-headed, and reckless, he was also carefree, openminded, strong, and kindhearted. The problem was that the thirteen year-old could not see it for himself, especially when both of his parents were not there to get him to see it.

When visiting hours were over, they hugged and kissed their mother good-bye in bed (Lori made her teddy bear kiss her mother's cheek goodnight before whispering, "Love you, Mommy!"), and then left the hospital in silence.

* * *

"This is stupid," grumbled Kyle, finally breaking through the hour of silence.

The car had left Houston and went out into the more spacial areas. In the night, it was pitch black with no street lights or building lights, but the headlights eventually revealed the pathway leading to the lone house in the middle of the grasslands, neighboring next to the empty horse farm in a hundred foot distance.

"You're the one who decided to come along," Maia pointed out, as she parked the car in the driveway. She glanced in the review mirror to see their little sister's head hanging over her booster, still passed out. "Besides, I promised Lori. She loves this place."

"No, she loved visiting _Dad,_ " retorted Kyle, his stored anger bubbling up, "and the horses! Neither of those are there anymore!"

"What is your problem?" Maia snapped. She turned off the car and hopped out. "I'm not driving all the way back home for another two hours, if that's what you're thinking! Now will you shut up and wake up Lori!"

"Sure thing, _Mom,"_ sneered Kyle.

Seeing the hurt look on his sister's face, he immediately regretted it, but she slammed the door shut before he would open his mouth to apologize and he watched her walked to the trunk to get their bags.

Shaking his head, face still flaming from his previous attitude, he unbuckled his belt and turned to Lori. He almost laughed at the tangled position the five year-old put herself in, and was surprised that dang teddy bear was still trapped in her arms. Lori had a way of being a living tornado when she was awake, and a curled up kitten when she was asleep.

"Hey, monkey, up at 'em!" Kyle shook her awake, while unbuckling her booster. "We're here!"

Lori was awake instantly and leapt happily out of the car like a little cricket. "Yay! Sleep-over at Daddy's house!" she sang in a squeaky voice.

"Or what's left of it," muttered Kyle, watching her run around to meet Maia at the trunk, who was gathering their bags.

When he grabbed his black backpack, Maia gave him a hard look that read _We'll talk about this later._ He nodded, as Lori picked up her backpack and instantly scampered to the front door. "Come on, come on, come on," she kept saying, bouncing at the door mat. "You guys are so slow!"

"Okay, okay, just a second, girl!" Maia was hastily shuffling her car keys to find the door key. Her purse was a large brown, baggy leather that was large enough to carry her sketchpad, pencils and pens, wallet, mint gum, Advil, sun glasses, pepper spray, bug spray, a miniature flashlight, lip gloss, a journal, and her iPhone with earplugs. His older sister always preferred big bags, being the pack-rat of the family. Even more than little Lori, who was the most adventurous of the siblings. Knowing Maia, in case she got bored or lost, she always would bring something to do to keep her distracted and tuning out her surroundings.

It was a wonder that Maia was always so reserved, quiet, and shy. She may have the spitting image of their mom, but there were times that Kyle always reminded her of their dad, who was also usually quiet and reserved, though he had more of a stoic presence like that of a seasoned soldier of war. Maia had his grey eyes, but they twinkled more softness and openness, showing that she held more innocence, confidence, and spirit that have yet to have the courage to reveal itself more often to the world.

Kyle knew her well enough to see that she was more like their mom than she realized. She just needed loosen up, he thought. Everyone always said that college was the first step to discovering a person's true self. When summer was over, Maia was going, and next year they will have to wait and see. Something that Kyle was not sure whether he should be looking forward to, or dreading. All he knew for certain was the twisted, empty feeling in his chest that churned at the thought of Maia moving away to Waco. It was only a few hours away from home. It could have been further away if it had been a different University in a different city or even a different state, but Maia wanted to be closer to home, remain in Texas, the state of rodeo, football, and Western beauty.

Nonetheless, both Kyle and Lori were going to miss their big sister, who was always the rock of the three, their protector, their driver, and their grown-up.

That was partly the reason why Kyle had lashed out. Not just because his mother won't wake up from his attempts for her to hear his causes for trouble _again-_ that was part of it-but because everyone was leaving him. Dad. Mom. Now Maia. It was so unfair. It made him want to scream, to hit something, or _someone._ Sure, Kyle valued independence, but he _hated_ being alone. He hated being ignored, looked down upon, and scorned for no apparent reason. Things like these were enough to spark something within Kyle that resembled the combustion of a fireball.

His grandparents, his mom, his father, and heck, even his junior high teachers and classmates, started calling him Spitfire, because clearly he wasn't the only one who was aware the frequent sear of feisty adrenaline that fueled his veins every now and then.

It constantly got him into trouble, but somehow, it seemed to always put a smile on his father's face, as if Kyle's wild behavior amused him in spite of scolding him.

His father. Ugh. For the past year, Kyle wanted nothing more than to hurt that bastard for abandoning them. Leaving without saying good-bye, without explanation, and without a single phone call for the first few weeks of his departure. For hurting their mom.

For betraying _him._ But if Arthur Dainson wasn't going to show up at any time for Kyle unleash his wrath and hatred that he had stored for his elder, the boy had decided instead to shun him. To ignore him, not speak about him, or have anything to do with the man.

It was the only way Kyle knew how to hurt him. That is, if his father cared enough to be hurt at all.

When they entered the house, the place dark and smelling strongly of sawdust from a longtime vacancy, Kyle felt a chill that had nothing to do with the temperature. The dark thought he had toward his father were instantly overcome with one memory that scarred him for eight months since _it_ had happened.

_He was sprawled across the sofa, legs dangling over the arm as he, his sisters, and grandparents watched 'Back to the Future Part One.' Maia had her legs bunched up on the other end of the sofa, Lori laying across her lap. She was covered in her blue polar bears blanket, her dark hair tucked in, while holding her teddy bear and sucking her thumb, her brown eyes wide and entranced by the movie light. Grandma and Grandpa were in their own armchairs, though Grandpa had already passed out twenty minutes into the movie, snoring with an empty beer bottle in his lap._

_Kyle must have been absorbed when he didn't realize how long ago his baby sister had gotten up and went to the kitchen, her blankets still wrapped around her shoulders like a cape. He had thought it was imagination that Lori was talking alone in the kitchen, but it was confirmed when Grandma asked Maia to go see what Lori was doing. In response, Maia's eyes lit up in surprise while peeking over and then had gotten up to go after the toddler._

_"Lori! What are you doing?" demanded Maia, disbelief hinting her tone. "Who's that on the phone?"_

Lori's on the phone? _Kyle sat up and one quick glance behind him gave him proof._ Who taught that kid how to dial?

_"Daddy!" she answered cheerfully._

Oh, shit! _Kyle felt himself tense up._

_"He's gonna come home soon! He said so!"_

Double shit!

_"Wanna say hi?"_

_Maia knelt known at the child's level, took the phone while covering the receiver with one hand, before hissing at Lori, "Dad! Why did you call Dad? It's late, and you couldn't ask us about it first?"_

_"I miss him!" Lori protested. "I saw the parents in the movie and-and-and Daddy said we can call him any time we want! And he's gonna come home, Maia! He says he's gonna try!" Kyle felt sadness at Lori words, and bitterness toward his father's. It was one more reason to hate about his father: giving his youngest daughter false hope, especially when no one else had to the heart to take it away from her._

_Maia sighed wearily, trying to find the right words to say without upsetting her sister. "Lori, Dad's hardly ever called us. He's hasn't even come to see us for months, not once! What he's doing right now...Look, Lori, I know you love Dad, but-"_

_"But what? Don't you love Daddy, too?" Her voice was quiet and small._

_"No-I mean, yes! Of course I do, but that's not the point-"_

_"Can you just talk to him?" whimpered Lori, her voice trembling. "Please? Everybody's mad at him. I don't like it. I just want him to come home and not be scared that we're mad at him, 'cause I'm not!"_

Of course you're not! You're four! _Kyle huffed. Still, Lori was the sweetest and most loving of the three, even at her young age. He wondered, and secretly hoped, that she will never change that as she grows older._

_"I-" Maia looked torn, and a little scared. Then she turned and noticed Kyle looking back at them. She gestured the phone at him, "Kyle, do you-"_

_Kyle frowned and rapidly shook his head. The answer was still the same, as it had been for seven months. He was not going to break. If Arthur Dainson wanted to talk to him, he had to come to him first and do it in person._

_"Are you sure?" Maia's tone went up a notch, as she looked very uneasy._

_"Will you just go ahead and talk to your father, honey?" Grandma called over to Maia. Her Texan accent was strong. "It'll do no good to ignore him forever."_

_"Thought you hated him?" scoffed Kyle._

_"I hate what he did to you and your mother, my only daughter, but y'all best not jump to ugly conclusions, especially when he's the only parent awake at this time!" Grandma pointed out sternly. "Besides, I reckon we all be mature about this and decide that it's about time the man owes y'all an explanation. Am I right?"_

_Maia straightened up and reluctantly nodded. Then she nodded at Lori, whose face brightened as she was handed back the phone and spoke in it, "'Kay, I'm putting on Maia." She paused. "Daddy? Kyle keeps saying you won't come home 'cause you don't like us anymore."_

_Kyle winced. Actually, his specific words back then had been,_ "He doesn't care about us. Next time he calls, you can tell him I said, 'Go to hell!'" _Not that Lori would tell Dad that. Maia probably tried to assure her that he didn't mean it. He probably didn't, but he was too stubborn to take it back._

_"I know he's being mean, but...are ya really gonna come home?...You promise?" Lori sounded hopeful. The little girl was bouncing on her heels, and Kyle couldn't help a small smile. Then she stopped. "Yeah?" Then she smiled, so brightly it would melt even the iciest of hearts. "Okay, Daddy, I love you, too."_

_Lori had then handed the phone to Maia and scampered back in the living room. She leapt on the couch and started to curl up next to her brother, who had slumped back down and stared at the TV with glassy eyes. He blocked out Maia's voice talking to their dad in the kitchen. He heard Lori tell him, "Daddy says to tell you that he loves you," but he didn't move or say anything._

_He didn't know what to think, or what to feel. He almost wished he didn't overhear the conversation, especially the part that made him learn that his father actually confessed his love directly, and Kyle still hadn't been there to hear. Lori was probably the first in her family to hear him say it. That was even more than their mom had ever gotten. There had been a time when Kyle and his family had just accepted that Arthur Dainson wasn't a man of words when it came to his emotions. It was shown through the tenderness in his eyes and smiles, reserved only for his wife and kids, his hugs, his teachings, his words (whether soothing or stern), his songs...through his actions, they knew him so well that he might as well say the words aloud, but was never actually said._

_Kyle swallowed the hurt that lumped in his throat, his eyes misting with unshed tears. He felt so betrayed. It now felt like he didn't know the man at all. Why now, of all times? Why did Dad leave them and not even visit them once? Why?_

_"What was that?" Maia's voice suddenly rose an octave. Kyle and Lori sat up to look at her in the kitchen. "Dad-what? Are you at the farmhouse? That sounds like the farmhouse!" Maia's expression grew worried and suspicious, her fingers twitching nervously. "Look, Dad," she began, after hesitating before coming to a decision, "I'm going to drive over and-"_

_"_ NO! DO NOT COME OVER!" _Maia, Kyle, and Lori jumped, startled. Arthur's voice was so loud from the speaker that everyone in the house could hear him...and it was completely overcome with fear and panic._ "DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME? DO NOT COME OVER!"

_Kyle and Lori looked at each other, and then leapt off the couch to run into the kitchen. Even Grandma had gotten up, but went over to wake Grandpa._

_"Dad? Dad!" Maia was now shouting, the phone still to her ear. Her breathing was quick as though she had been running, and her gray eyes were shifting with blindly fear and panic as she listened. They started to fill with tears. "Oh, my God! Dad!" Her voice became a high-pitched squeal. Lori had started crying when seeing her big sister in this much distress._

_"What's going on?" Kyle burst out, just as Grandpa waddled into the kitchen, towed by Grandma, who said, "Maia, what's going on with your daddy? What's happening? Is he still on the phone?"_

_"No! I-I-I don't know-h-he didn't hang up, but he's not answering!" Maia stammered. Lori was still wailing and Kyle's limbs were frozen with terror, while Maia continued calling out to their father, tears now escaping her eyes, "Dad! Please, answer!_ Daddy!" _She hadn't called him that since she was ten._

_Grandpa had said something about calling the police and ordering the kids to keep the phone on speaker, when Kyle felt a rush of fire and ice searing his veins, his heart rate increasing with pure terror. Without thinking, he rushed forward and snatched the phone out of Maia's grasp._

_"Dad!" his loud voice sounded hoarse. He tried to keep his breathing even, but failed miserably when hearing the airy silence from the receiver. "Dad, are you there?" he tried again. "Can you hear me? We're freaking out here, Dad, what's going on?"_

_Dead silence. Kyle snapped. "IS ANYONE THERE?" he screamed into the phone. Lori wailed louder, and Grandma picked her up, rocking and shushing her in the attempts to calm her._

_A moment later, as Kyle listened for any signs of life-praying that the worst hasn't happened-he heard heavy breathing. Heavy, rough, growly breathing, as though it belonged to a grizzly bear._

_"Hello?" Kyle demands, swallowing his fear. "Who is this?" Maia's eyes widened, mouthing 'Oh my God' in realized terror. "Where's my dad? Hello?"_

_The breathing continued. There was a small chuckle, low and menacing. It sent icy chills through Kyle. It was obvious that it wasn't Dad, and it most certainly wasn't a friend of his. Far from it, it seemed. It sounded like a really big dude. A big, scary dude...more like a monster than a man._

_"Hey!" Kyle yelled into the phone, trying to sound brave and equally menacing, despite the childish crack in his voice. "I can hear you breathing, you creep! Where the hell is my father? I'm talking to you, you big-Hello? Hello?" The line went dead. Kyle redialed and waited, but it said the line was disconnected. He swore and started hyperventilating; he hadn't felt Maia wrap her arms around him, stroking his black hair to calm him, even though she herself was trembling._

_Dad was dead. Dad was kidnapped. Dad was hurt. All the worst possibilities ran through Kyle's mind like a hurricane. Dad was truly gone._

_In the other room, through Lori whimpering and the muffled pounding in his eardrums, he heard Grandpa calling the police._

"Great, lights are out!" Maia said, shaking Kyle out of his thoughts. She had been flipping the switch continuously, but without results. Lori whimpered. She was scared of the dark. Since the farmhouse was the only home within three miles of the country area, their electricity usually ran by the generator out back.

"Wait here, I have to turn on the generator," Maia announced, about to go.

"I'll do it," Kyle quickly said, beating her to the door. It was the least he could do to make up for snapping at her earlier...and ruining her time at the HoeDown. She had done nothing but try taking care of them, even when it should have been her night off, if not for her promise to Lori. Besides, he was the better mechanic. "I won't be long," he added, before running around the house outside.

His backpack was still hooked around his shoulders, so he reached into his side pocket to pull out his mini flashlight. Walking around back to the shed, he shivered. It shouldn't be cold outside. Far from it: it should be hot and humid, especially when it was the beginning of summer in Texas. Kyle was even wearing jeans and a red hoodie, covering his black T-shirt, along with black and white sneakers. All that should have had him sweating all day, despite his grandparents' warnings.

"Weird," he muttered. It didn't feel like it was going to rain soon, but even then, it would still be hot. A full moon was out.

Then he heard crunching noises...and gurgles. He frowned. Sometimes they got raccoons, or foxes. When he finally reached the shed, he pointed his flashlight on the backup generator-and then shined on two monsters. Two ghoulish, gray-skinned, apelike, yellow-eyed, _scary as heck_ monsters!

They both turned toward him immediately, staring at him with gawking expressions. They had jagged fangs with their deformed jaws bathed in animal blood. Raccoon blood. Kyle let out a small noise, paralyzed where he stood, staring at these freaky gremlins like witnessing something out of a horror movie he once saw.

The ghouls stood up, their gray limbs all crooked and hunched over in their black-spike armor, as they edged toward him. In their hands were crooked-shaped black swords. One of them grinned horribly, the blood stains comparing it to a zombie. "Bad timin'?" it croaked.

Kyle swallowed his breath and straightened up, nodding. "You're telling me," he managed in a breathless, high-pitched voice.

* * *

Lori had her little flashlight on as she walked around the house, while Maia was texting Grandma to confirm they were in the farmhouse. It was not a very big place. There was no hallway, no stairs, two bedrooms, a small kitchen, a closet-sized office, and the living room with a couch, a basket full of toys for the kids (or just Lori now), a rocking chair, and a TV.

Hugging Teddy and her blanket, her little backpack still hooked to her shoulders, she went into Daddy's office. It was her favorite place, besides the horse farm (which was empty now), because Daddy had cool stuff in there.

He had a Microft computer he hardly used, letting his kids play games on it or do homework from time to time when they lived here, but what Lori really liked best about his office was the pictures and maps pinned on the wall.

They were pictures of New Zealand. The snowy mountains, the forests, the rivers, the lakes, the grasslands, the towns, the animals...everything Lori had ever dreamed of seeing. Her daddy was from New Zealand. He was a Kiwi. He had different accent and everything, but it had changed over the years when he moved to America with be with Mommy.

Both Mommy and Daddy had promised to take her there someday. The whole family. Daddy was going to show them the places where he grew up in. Ever since she was little, he had even taught her a code language that he made up himself when living there was a child. It wasn't a lot, but he had promised to teach her more when she was older.

Maia and Kyle had been taught before, but they soon gave up. Lori told herself over and over with determination that she will never give up. She loved stuff like this. Daddy also told her fairy tales about fairies, elves, dwarves, heroes, goblins, and wizards...though he never liked it when Maia and Kyle had played those fairy tale games when they were younger. Even movie and Kyle's video games seemed to upset Daddy, especially when the bad guys and monsters came up. She never knew why.

There were also drawings next to the photos. They had similar fashions of the New Zealand pictures, a few of Mommy in her cowgirl hat, a few of the kids as toddlers (Lori was a baby, laughing gleefully with her teddy bear just about the same size, Kyle about her age with messy black hair and wide eyes, and a nine year-old Maia, her hair beautiful as ever and face more childlike).

They were drawn years apart, obviously. Maia was thirteen years older and Kyle eight years older. Lori hugged her bear tighter. "Look, Teddy," she whispered. "I wanna go somewhere like that!" She pointed at the photos of the grassy hills containing tiny cottages and flowers. "It's so pretty!" That picture looked homey. Daddy had personally called it his 'shire,' whatever that meant.

Soft whispers answered with a slight ringing tune. She smiled. Sometimes it felt like Teddy was alive and listening to her.

"Hey, Lori," Maia called from the living room, making the little girl walk out of the office, "want to pick a movie?"

"Yeah!" She skipped over and jumped on the couch as Maia started digging in her bag, her purse still strapped across her chest.

"What is taking Kyle so long?" the young woman muttered under her breath.

As if right on cue, Kyle burst into the house and slammed the door so loudly the girls jumped in shock. The lock clicked. The boy was panting, his face drained with terror.

"Kyle, what are you-" demanded Maia, but was cut off by when Kyle sprinted across the room, grabbed the flashlights, and turned them all off.

_"Kyle!"_ shrieked Lori in fear, as darkness surrounded her. She was about to scream even more when his larger hand slapped over her mouth, muffling her sound.

"Shut up!" he whispered frantically. Maia grabbed at his arm, but he violently shook her off and hissed at her, "Get down and be quiet!"

"Kyle, _what the hell's the matter with you?"_

"Okay, there's a monster out there-no, _two_ monsters out there, and they were just chasing after me- _there! There they are!"_ He pointed at the windows, which had been lit by moonlight but were now blocked by moving shadows.

Suddenly there was loud cracking thump on the door, as if hit by metal. The siblings fell silent, not even breathing. Lori was frozen with wide brown eyes underneath Kyle's hand. Maia was kneeling on the floor, staring wide-eyed as the door.

A gravely voice shrieked from the other side, like an animal. _"We know yer in there, boy!"_ it bellowed. "There's nowhere t' hide!"

"Office," whispered Maia, gesturing at them urgently. "Into the office! Now!"

"What?" hissed Kyle. "It's freaking _closet!_ We'll be trapped!"

"It's the only room in the house with a lock, okay?" Maia snapped, gathering them both up. They were still all wearing their bags. "Now keep your heads down and-"

The windows suddenly shattered. A dark creature with scary form jumped in, screeching loudly. Lori screamed loudly, Kyle joining her, and Maia shrieked while shoving her younger siblings away, "GO! GO, GO, GO!"

They were nearly at the office, Kyle carrying Lori, when the creature suddenly tripped over the basket of toys, crashing loudly while dropping its ugly sword. The squeaky toys mixed with the ghoul's continuos howling.

"GET IN! GET IN! CLOSE THE DOOR!" Kyle was shrieking as Maia started shoving the two in the office. The girl whipped around and started the pull the door closed, but then the ghoul lunged forward and his arm blocked the entrance.

The kids screamed loudly in panic as Maia struggled to close the door. Snarling, its clawed hand grabbed her carmel hair and started twisting it, causing Maia to shriek in pain.

"MAIA!" Kyle and Lori cried.

"C'mere, my pretty!" the ghoul spat, while Maia used one hand and her knee to hold the door and tried elbow it in the face with her other arm. Kyle rushed forward and leaned against the door, helping her hold it. Little Lori just froze wear she was, screaming at the horrifying struggle with tears running down her cheeks.

"Lori, do something!" shouted Kyle, as he struggled with the door.

"What?" screamed Lori.

"Pepper-spay...in my purse...NOW! ARG, LET ME GO!" Maia shrieked at the ghoul, who only laughed harshly in return as it kept grabbing at her hair.

Lori felt as though her worst nightmares had come to life, but her sister was in danger and it was _real._ Whimpering, she hurried over and dug her little hand in Maia's purse, which kept jerking back and forth from the struggles.

"Hold still!" shouted Lori, as she searched frantically in her sister's crazily enormous purse. "I can't find it!" Instead she pulled out a ballpoint pen.

Seeing it instantly, Kyle grabbed it, clicked it, and passed it Maia, who struggled to hold the pen in her fist and then instantly stabbed it in the ghoul's face. Right in the eye.

It shrieked with pain.

"HA! Pen's mightier than your crappy sword, freak!" called Kyle, sounding bolder.

Lori screamed along with the monster's screams and covered her eyes (which felt sensitive after watching), feeling sick. It was dark, but not dark enough for her _not_ to remember that. How could Kyle stand it? It had to be those scary zombie games he plays!

It worked. The ghoul released Maia, shrieking from the pen stuck in its eye, and the girl front-kicked the thing in the chest out of the doorway before she and Kyle slammed it shut loudly. With shaking hands covered in black blood, Maia managed to double lock the door before followed another crashing thump on the other side. The whole office trembled with the pounding, dust falling from the ceiling.

Without the electricity, it was pitch black. Lori could not see her older siblings' faces, but she felt their bodies press around her as they huddled together, trembling and breathing hard with panic.

"It's the other monster!" gasped Kyle. "Maia, call someone! Grandma and Grandpa, the police, _anyone!"_

"Okay, okay-Oh, shit!"

"What?"

"I dropped it!"

"You what? You dropped _what?"_

"My phone! I dropped my damn phone! It's in the living room!"

"Are you kidding me?!" Kyle screamed. "We're about to be a killed by a psycho goblin and you drop your phone?"

"I was freaking out! I wasn't thinking!" Maia screamed back, as door started to crack.

"Okay, fine," panted Kyle, "you still have your pepper spray, and a few sharpened pencils, right?"

"We are not fighting that thing!"

"That _thing_ is going to kill us if we don't do something! Besides, there's only one of him, right? Without Bert, there's no Ernie, right?"

_"What?"_ With Maia's annoyed tone, Lori giggled and hiccuped through her tears at Kyle's sense of humor. "I can't believe you're joking in a time like this!" The door kept thumping and the ghoul kept growling viciously on the other side.

"You get what I mean! We can take that guy!"

"No!"

"Stop it!" sobbed Lori, and both stopped talking. The crashing continued and the little girl covered her ears. "Stop, stop, stop! I want my mommy! I want my daddy! I wanna go home! I'm scared!"

As she continued crying, she felt her big brother and sister both wrap their arms around her tiny, shaking body. Their bodies were tense, but warm and comforting. She sniffled, and buried her face in their arms. "I don't wanna die," she whispered.

"We're not going to die, L," whispered Maia, stroking her soft hair.

"We're going to be okay," said Kyle, though there a slight tremor in his voice. "We're going to be okay."

They stayed huddled close together, Maia having her arms around both of them, as they waited for the monster to crash down the door. Lori felt her heart pounding as she curled up in their laps, closed her eyes, and hugged her teddy bear, the object she cherished the most.

She kept praying in their mind that they would make it out. She really, really, really loved her brother and sister more than anything in the world. They were her favorite people, besides Mommy and Daddy.

She didn't want to die. She didn't want them to die. She wanted the three of them to be someplace else. Some place safer. Cheerier. Prettier. Their own, personal 'shire.'

_We wanna be somewhere else,_ she prayed loudly over and over in her mind, from the deepest core of her heart. _Take us away! Get us out of here! I wanna be somewhere else!_

When the door finally down, the ghoul charging in with a screech, the children screaming in terror and covering their eyes...everything dissolved.

_Blackness became sparks of flames like fireworks, the air thunderous with loud, incomprehensible noise. Everything was white, gold, red, like fire. She couldn't breathe. Couldn't move. She was on fire. She couldn't feel her brother and sister with her anymore. She tried to scream for them, but her voice was lost in all the roaring noise of the racing void._

_She saw a mountain…..a lake...red scales…..fire and death….caves...desolation...a golden ring...and a white gem that shined like it contained a living galaxy..._

_The Heart of the Mountain...Home…..Maia….Kyle…..Lori..._

_...then came forth a large, flaming eye with a dark armored phantom in the center as the pupil. It overwhelmed her senses with such destructive power that scared her more than anything else. She screamed, waving her hands in front of her as if to fight off this monstrous force..._

...then came a blinding white flash that popped like a firecracker, felt herself fall, and hit the ground below her with a choking gasp. The air became clean and silent, only filled a silent breeze and a soft birdsong. When she moved her fingers, they gripped the fresh blades of grass.

When Lori opened her tearful eyes, she saw green tree tops and the sun. When she slowly sat up, the little girl found herself surrounded by green hills, gravely pathways, flower fields, and a nearby forest. Nearby lay the unconscious forms of Kyle and Maia, along with their bags and Lori teddy bear.

When it finally sank in, she smiled, suddenly forgetting all her worries.

"We're here," she whispered. "We're at Daddy's 'shire.'"


	3. In A Hole In The Ground

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll be quoting Tolkien in some of it, so look out for the (*) as a footnote

"Maia! Hey Maia, wake up!"

The darkness faded away as Maia opened her eyes to find Kyle shaking her, Lori kneeling next to him with her teddy bear, looking strangely excited. Instantly, her head started throbbing. She shut her eyes again, the flashing images she just witnessed pounding the insides of her skull with a vengeance, like a mustang kicking a fence. She remembered the whole thing, before she blacked out. It was as if she woke up from a night terror. Being attacked by a scary ghoul in the dark at one point, and then being surrounded by a riptide of flames, loud earsplitting noise, and the cold essence of her greatest fears the next.

It seemed so real...and yet it didn't. She didn't feel cold anymore, or that much afraid. Her mind was mess...and a real pain. She put a hand of her eyes and groaned, "Ugh, my head!"

"Yeah, same here," agreed Kyle, who stopped shaking her, "but you probably got the worst of it. It looked like one of our bags landed on your head when we hit the ground."

"What?" Maia uncovered her eyes to look at him in confusion, his frowning face half-hidden in a crown of heavy, warm sunlight that bathed her face.

Wait, _sunlight?_ Her eyes darted around. Blue sky. Tree tops. Birds singing. Nearby ponies neighing and goats bleating. Her sprawled out right arm felt a bed of grass tickling her bare skin. She frowned and closed her fist to feel its fresh blades, confirming that it was real. "Where are we?" she asked quietly. "Why are we outside?"

How long had they passed out for?

"Uh, yeah, about that..." Kyle echoed as Maia slowly sat up, wincing from her headache. "We don't know."

"I do!" cheered Lori, suddenly. Her face contained a wide, excited smile. "I think we're in New Zealand! I think we're in Daddy's shire."

Both Maia and Kyle stared at her like she had her head full of nuts. "Okay, I was wrong," said Kyle. "Lori definitely got the worst of it!"

"No, really," insisted the little girl, now looking annoyed at their expressions. She turned around and pointed. "Look! Just like in Daddy's pictures...kind of." They followed her gaze and, to the older kids' shock, found that she was right. Sort of.

The scenery was completely the perfect image of a famous painting, only that it breathed with clean air that smelled of freshly mowed grass, petunias, pine, and honey. The landscape was covered in fresh green grass, which was layered with sloping hills, bright meadows, and golden-graveled pathways that twisted and turned not too far away around a crystal river that reflected the baby-blue from the clear sky, running past the hills and all the way into the far-off woodlands.

The most intriguing of this beautiful county was the village built within the gathered hilltops. There was a town near the center, scattered with hamlets, markets, gardens, and pens full of farm animals like pigs, goats, hens, and mules. A stone bridge crossed the river, connecting to the village and back. The rolling hills, to the kids' sense of awe, had multiple rounded doors protruding from the underground, all in different colors of red, green, and blue, the burrows topped with red-bricked chimneys and surrounded by different front yards with fences, hanging laundry, and front door steps.

The area was definitely occupied with people, but when Maia squinted, she faintly made out what they were _wearing._ Colorful clothes and definitely not modern.

"What _century_ is this?" Kyle said, voicing Maia's thoughts. The three of them were laying stomach-flat on the highest hill viewing the whole place, staying out of sight.

"Maybe it's a setup," suggested Maia, though it was highly doubtful. Everything looked and even _felt_ too real to be merely a renaissance fair.

"We can ask somebody," suggested Lori. She pointed at a passing wagon, occupied with a driver in a straw farm hat on the nearest road. "What about him?"

They all agreed, gathered their bags, and quickly caught up to the wagon heading down to the village. "Excuse me?" Maia called. "Sir? Sir, can you help us?"

The man looked startled when they approached him, even though he didn't stop. He looked at them suspiciously, as though measuring them under his ridiculously large nose. It took Maia only a moment to realize he was small (three and half feet tall at most), wore an old-fashioned overcoat, and that he was barefoot...except his feet were enormous and covered completely with hair. "Afternoon, miss! What d'you want?" His accent sounded British.

"Um..." Maia blinked rapidly and cleared her throat as she looked up. "Can-Can you tell us where we are?"

"What?" He looked at her like she insulted him.

"Can you tell us where we are?" she repeated more firmly, still walking as the mule pulled the wagon full of crops. "We're lost. We just woke up here, and we have no idea where we are! Are we still in Texas?"

"Look, I don't know what games you young humans are playing, but if you must know, you're in Hobbiton!" the little man said quickly, sounding annoyed. "And no good place for large folk to roam about, if you ask me! Now, if you will excuse me..." They stopped walking to let the wagon pass by, and realized they were just at the edge of the stone bridge crossing over to the village.

"You heard what he said, right?" Kyle said, sounding a little taken back. "He called 'humans,' like-like he wasn't..."

Lori gasped. "Maybe he's a munchkin! Like in the Wizard of OZ!"

"A really grumpy munchkin!" muttered Kyle. "And with butt-ugly feet!"

"Stop," scolded Maia, slapping his arm gently. "Let's keep asking around. Maybe someone can help us."

"What's Hobbiton?" asked Lori, as the three started walking across the bridge. "Is that in New Zealand?"

"No, it doesn't even exist!" said Kyle, frustrated. "It sounds like something out of freaking nursery rhymes! You know what? I think that munchkin was messing with us! They could _all_ be playing us!"

"Kyle, there's like over a hundred of these people here, and little kids!" Maia pointed out, gesturing at the people surrounding them. The children were puny, tinier than Lori, looking absolutely adorable with their curly tops and little hairy feet. "I don't know what going on either, but I really don't think this is all a game!"

The "people" were eyeing up at them nervously, attempting to stay as far away from them as possible like rabbits from their holes. The market was very cheery, full of foods, ribbons, silk, flowers, animals, hats, clothing, wood, silverware, baskets, wine, tea sets, and much more. Most of the men were dressed in different coats or vests with brass buttons, overalls, scarves, and sometimes with straw or tall hats. The women were all in dresses decorated spring colors or flowery designs, some wearing aprons, some with fancy hat topped with large feathers or flowers, some with ribbons, and some with straw hats of their own. For a moment, Maia couldn't decide whether they matched the style of Victorian England, or the world of Little Bo Peep.

The children were mini versions of the adults, all looking like happy toddlers as they played wild games with the undeniable innocence and cheerfulness that Maia saw many times on Lori's face every day since she was born. Unlike the adults, however, the children either stared at the bigger people with wide-eyed curiosity, or smiled because there were the new people in their small village.

There were two things that all the little people had in common: curly hair and large bare, hairy feet. Oh, and their ears were slightly sharper, Maia noticed with a start. Were they supposed to be elves? What with the hairy feet, then?

Everything would have looked perfect if not for the many eyes on the three humans walking uneasily through their market. They were either suspicious, uneasy, scornful, or just plain curious. Some shook their heads in disapproval, some looked away to ignore them, and many others scurried away before they got close.

"Not very welcoming, are they?" grumbled Kyle, eyeing at them. "I suddenly feel like were in the Suburbs." Lori had pressed close to his hip, suddenly looking shy and less confident.

"Yep, typical small-town people," agreed Maia. She bit her lip, feeling nervous. She hated being stared at, being the center of attention. But she straightened up and took deep breath. "So, who should we start asking first?"

* * *

In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit. Not a nasty, dirty, wet hole, filled with the ends of worms and an oozy smell, nor yet a dry, bare, sandy hole with nothing in it to sit down on or to eat: it was a hobbit hole, and that meant good food, a warmth hearth, and all the comforts of home.*

This hobbit was a very well-to-do hobbit, and his name was Baggins. Bilbo Baggins.*

Having recently turned fifty-one years old, entering his middle age, the hobbit was currently living a quiet, comfortable life in his beautiful hobbit hole. As a Baggins of Bag-End, he was respectable to his neighbors, kept everything in order, and ran the family business almost with ease.

The brown-haired little man was straightening his favorite red coat for the late morning, large basket in one arm, adjusting the yellow scarf at his neck with the habitual twitch of his nose, and then stepped out his door into the beautiful daylight. He was off straight to the market to refill in pantry. After all, those seed cakes, cheese blocks, and fresh fruit were not going to replace themselves. And flowers, oh yes. Bright yellow daffodils would be lovely for his kitchen table.

Beautiful and comfortable as it was, it at times could be lonely. Living in one of the largest holes in the Shire by himself ever since he came of age, when his father, Bungo Baggins, had passed away of an illness gained at old age, keeping the place clean and partially active was practically all Bilbo had done for the past twenty years. He rearranged his rooms, his food, his collections, his dishes, his books, and all things new that needed arranging.

Not that he minded. Other times he would eat, smoke, read, take walks, and socialize with the neighbors whenever he can. It was a daily routine that he had grown so accustomed to that it became fiercely natural.

For that, he was known as a respectable hobbit...apart from being half Took on his mother's side.

As Bilbo walked down the path, passing by front lawns and waving hobbits, whom he greeting politely in return, he could not help but be aware of the familiar haughty glances that he felt shift over him like petty owls waiting for the mouse to dart. There were some other respectable families here, some that were even distantly related to him, who still had even the tiniest nerve to look down upon Bilbo Baggins just because of his Took-ish blood. He was used to it. He had never once acted upon it, not even (to his silent shame) on his mother's behalf, but whenever he found other hobbits, most especially the Sackville-Baggines, whispered behind his back while glancing in his direction or ever-so greeted him with stretched out smiles that most certainly did not match their eyes, it lit up a small flame in his chest that he always kept tucked away like folded clothes in a drawer.

He handled his restraint with grace and pleasantry as he walked through the market and started picking out lemons. It was one of the only things that his mother and father had taught him together as a child, both who were so very different, yet somehow their marriage had prolonged _because_ of those differences.

 _"No matter the name, hold no shame,"_ they had taught him, the first time he had been verbally bullied as a small child. Bilbo had lived up to that saying and was proud of it. Although it did not stop all the constant bickering about the Took family and their low level of respectability. Bilbo had even wondered if it was being raised proper that kept him from speaking out, or that he doubted that he even had the nerve to risk his high but delicate reputation. It was all based on what is to be expected, and so far as Bilbo was concerned, nothing unexpected usually ever happened.

Bilbo paid for the food and was stopping by the flower booth when he noticed the commotion happening not too far away behind him. It sounded an awful lot like the annoying screech of Lobelia Sackville-Baggins. _"OH! Get this reckless creature away from me! THE NERVE OF THAT WRETCH!"_

Bilbo smirked, as he started smelling the daffodils he picked up. No doubt a scurvy hobbit child had gotten a little excited in a chase and had run smack into Lobelia's bosom, hard enough to knock her over and send her skirts flying. He could imagine that prissy face of hers drawing up with rage and humiliation in public. Served her right! The flowers were smelling so good today and the day becoming more lovely.

"HEY!" another voice shouted, sounded like a young lad's. The fierceness made Bilbo's skin jump slightly in shock. "That's my sister, you crazy bitch!"

The insult made plenty of hobbits gasp and look in the direction of the shouting. Startled by the commotion and the foul language, Bilbo turned around to follow the argument...and jumped in surprise for a second time when instantly spotting two taller figures and a little one facing off the huffed up shock of Miss Lobelia.

Two girls and a boy. One of the girls looked old enough to be considered a young woman, but the boy and other girl were definitely children. Definitely of Men's folk, in Hobbiton. Alone, and facing the unnecessary wrath of the Sackville-Bagginses.

"Well, I never!" gasped Lobelia, her voice loud enough to draw in the public. She always loved the attention, that woman! She pointed at the angry lad who shouted at her. "You clearly come from the filthy sorts if that filthy mouth is bred from the likes of you! Coming here, Men's spawn, already polluting our children with your outlandish entrance for slander! Have you no shame?"

"Hey, I'm not the one who lashes out on little kids for having a bit of fun!" snapped the lad, stepping closer to the hobbit woman, beating her level by almost two feet. "So why don't you go and fan yourself with your giant feather or something?!" The dark-haired little girl who was his sister was clinging to the lad's hip, her frightened face turned slightly to reveal tears. Goodness, the child was tinier than a grown hobbit!

"Kyle, that's enough! Stop!" The older girl stepped forward and attempted to pull the boy named Kyle away. When the boy struggled, his face twisted with rage and frustration, the brown-haired girl stepped in front of him and turned to face Lobelia, who was now backed up by other disapproving hobbits. "L-look, ma'am, we-we don't want any trouble..." The girl looked slightly flustered under the circumstances, especially when all eyes were now on them. Bilbo could hardly blame her. It was a messy situation he had been determined to avoid his whole life. "We were just passing by and-and we were just wondering where we are!"

"You are in Hobbiton, lass," someone called out.

"Y-Yeah, we got that already," admitted the girl, looking around her, swallowing. Behind her, the boy's jaw was still clenched in silent anger, and the little girl was staring at her sister-Bilbo assumed they were related-in a wide-eyed plea. "But _where_ is that, exactly?"

There was a brief, unnerving silence from everyone. "Well...in the Shire, of course," a woman nearby said nervously. "Hobbiton is only one of its many places."

"Okay, but _where_ is the Shire?" Kyle cut in, sounding exasperated. "New Zealand? Texas? England? What _country_ is this?"

"The Shire _is_ the country, you daft boy!" snapped Lobelia, her hands on her wide hips. "I would suggest a map if you cannot get the names right in the head!"

"Ma'am, you really don't want to know what's going on in my head right now!" the lad shot back, his fist clenching at his sides in a way that made Bilbo shift nervously, his hand twitching as though tempted to hold down those fists and restrain them. _Do not get involved. Do not move. Do not speak. This is not my business,_ he thought to himself. _Not my business._

"What my brother means to say," the young woman cut in, after shooting her brother a look, "is that we're really sorry to be bothering y'all, but we're lost, confused, and we would really appreciate it if someone would give us a place to stay for a bit-" Lobelia scoffed loudly in disbelief. "-just until we figure out how to get home..."

"Oh, well, you are certainly not stepping anywhere near my home!" snapped Lobelia, making the girl take a step back. "I doubt anyone here from all the way past Bree would have the pleasure of such with that rude _brother_ of yours! You want some place to stay? Go at the Green Dragon Inn like every ordinary visitor and pay off your lodgings there!"

From the scared look on the girl's face and nervous ones from her siblings, Bilbo could tell that it wasn't an option for them. No money, most likely. During the argument, he had taken the time to observe the humans and found them to be wearing strange clothing as well as strange-looking baggage. Even their accents were different, and neither of the girls were wearing dresses.

The older lass with wavy golden-brown hair wore blue-gray linen pants that stuck tightly to her skinny but athletic legs, her sleeveless shirt (leaving her arms completely bare) was white with lacy ruffles you would find on beautiful dress-skirts, and her boots were brown-leather, shin-high, and pointed at the toe. The little one wore the same styled boots, only a deep raspberry red color, her leggings black with tiny colored dots, and her top a yellow long-sleeved shirt with a sunflower in the middle. The lad, who had dark hair like his little sister, wore the same styled linen as his older sister's but more baggy, his shoes black and white (very strange looking), and his top was a deep red with a hood and front pockets, barely revealing peeks of black fabric underneath the hem to show his other top.

Bilbo started in surprise to find that the little girl was staring right at him, and he cleared his throat awkwardly, but then stopped when the eyes caught his attention. Brown eyes. Brown, adorable, rounded child eyes, wet with tears and pleading for supplication. So helpless, so innocent, so scared...Bilbo twitched in conflict, bouncing on his heels as thoughts battled against thoughts in his head, as he continued to hold himself back.

 _What would Mother do?_ The thought came unbidden in his mind. Bilbo sighed heavily. Brilliant! Even the ghost of his dear mother's undeniable kindness was still teaching him lessons of her own. _No matter the name, hold no shame._

While no one had spoken up to make an offer to the young ones, Lobelia's smugness clear from the distance, the flame in his chest exploded and Bilbo found himself marching forward, still holding his heavy basket of food. "Ah, excuse me?" he spoke up.

All eyes now turned on Mr. Bilbo Baggins as he approached the scene. Almost instantly, nearby friendlier hobbits had said, "Good morning, Mr. Bilbo!"

"Good morning! Good morning! Same to you!" Bilbo kept greeting as he passed by some friends. Then he nodded curtly at the hobbit woman. "Lobelia," he greeted politely.

"Bilbo," returned Lobelia, who eyed him suspiciously.

"What is all the fuss about?" Bilbo looked toward the human youngsters, who were staring back at him with surprise and uncertainty. "Really, everyone, there's really no need to get worked up over some misunderstanding, especially with young newcomers!"

"Misunderstanding?" scoffed Lobelia. "And the hairs on all our toes are falling out! I have had enough of these _nuisances_ to last me a lifetime, so if you have better way of handling the problem, Mr. Bilbo Baggins, be my guest and deal with the problem!"

"Alright, maybe I will!" Bilbo burst out, and then closed his mouth with wide eyes. That sounded wrong saying it like _that_ out loud. He was aware of the many eyes watching him. "I-I-I mean-what I mean to say is that, er-" He cleared his throat and took a deep breath, before turning to look up at the young woman, the boy peeking over her shoulder. "What I really meant to say is that you are welcome to stay in my home for a few days," he said more boldly. He could feel Lobelia and the other annoyed hobbits' accusing glares on his back, but as usual, he ignored them. "Just until we have this current predicament of yours sorted out, that is, Miss-"

"Maia," the girl answered. She held out a slim hand and Bilbo automatically took it to shake. "Maia Dainson. This is my brother, Kyle, and my sister, Lori." The little girl smiled suddenly and waved at the hobbit. Bilbo noticed she carried a stuffed teddy bear under her other arm.

"Bilbo," the hobbit greeted them warmly. "Bilbo Baggins."

* * *

Maia was still trying to process their good luck as they followed the little man with brown curly hair from the market place and finally on the pathway leading further up the hills. Her cheeks were still hot with mortification as the thought of that awful woman-Lobelia, Bilbo called her-shooting dirty insults at them like that, all because Lori got a little careless when playing tag with the tiny children and wasn't watching where she was going. A part of her enjoyed watching Kyle build up a public showdown to defend his sweet little sister, but the logical part of her knew that they would have had less of a chance in finding any help if the scene they have already created ended badly. Facing that woman instead of Kyle still shook her, like she had stepped onto a battlefield with no sword or shield. The woman was small, but she was scary as hell, like a chihuahua with loud yapping.

It was pure luck that one of the little people stepped forward and offered for them to stay at his place. He seemed friendly enough: three foot ten, soft build, brown curly hair (same color as Maia's, but without the sun streaks), fancy clothing, slightly narrowed ears, a button nose, blue eyes that would be mistaken as dark if one didn't look to closely, and of course, his bare feet were large and hairy, the color of his hair.

"Just a little over the hill," Bilbo said as he lead the way, "and then we'll reach Bag-End!"

"What's Bag-End?" piped up Lori, who was walking next to Mr. Baggins, at least a foot shorter than he was.

Bilbo chuckled. "My home. Bag-End is the title of my house, representing the family business."

"Oh." Lori didn't get it, but she asked something else. "Are you people munchkins?"

Bilbo looked started. "What?" He frowned.

"Lori," Maia warned behind them, while Kyle sniggered softly. Lori ignored her and pressed, "Why do you have big, hairy feet and no shoes on?"

"We're hobbits," answered Bilbo, quickly recovering from his confusion. From the look on their faces, he continued, "Halfings? Shire folk?"

"I still don't know what that is," admitted Lori, her shoulder slouching in disappointment.

"Oh, well..." He thought for a moment. "I hear most folk outside of the Shire don't hear much about hobbits either. Once when I visited Bree, I think I've heard two or three travelers claiming they've never heard of a hobbit before. It says much about us, I think," he attempted to joke, and Lori giggled.

"Is it normal for hobbits to stare at us like that all day?" said Kyle, as they passed an elderly hobbit with a tall hat and a wine flask, who was shooting them a suspicious glare before moving on. And he wasn't the one, especially when passing occupied front lawns with prying eyes looking their way.

"It helps if you ignore them," suggested Bilbo, glancing back at Kyle. "Don't take it personally; we usually like the peace and quiet, and Big Folk passing by doesn't usually help much."

"Big Folk?"

"Men. Big Folk is just a word we use because they are more prone to stomping over our homes and causing too much loud noise. Nothing at all serious. Ah, here we are," he nodded toward the green door on the highest hill. He opened the gate and gestured for the ladies to go first, then Kyle, before he himself walked up the steps to turn the brass knob on his green door.

The children stared at the entrance in awe as the hobbit entered the hole in the ground, before they followed him inside. Maia felt the top door entrance brush past the top of her head, measuring her five foot two height exactly. Kyle was three inches shorter and Lori two feet shorter, giving them no trouble at all.

As they entered, their mouths _dropped._ What they saw before them was not what they expected at all.

Bilbo stood in front of them, shifting awkwardly with a bashful smile, before self-consciously pointing in the kitchen. "Right, erm...should I just fix you up some afternoon tea? Luncheon? Are you hungry?"

They were _starving_ , not having eaten since the HoeDown festival, which now seemed like forever ago. "Yes!" cheered Lori, while Kyle replied casually, "Sure." Maia nodded with a small smile, "Sound good!"

"Right! Brilliant! Just...just make yourselves at home, then...you can put your baggage in the living room and come into the dining room when you're ready," explained Bilbo hastily, before he set off to put his groceries into the kitchen. "And have no worries," he called from the kitchen, "the rooms are quite close together, so you won't get lost!"

* * *

Bag-End began a tube-shaped hall like tunnel: a very comfortable tunnel without smoke, with curved walls, floors tiles and carpeted, provided with polished chairs, and lots of pegs for hats and coats-hobbits were fond of visitors. The tunnel wound on and on, going fairly but not quite straight into the side of the hill. There were no stairs in the hole, but on the same passage led to bedrooms, bathrooms, cellars, pantries, wardrobes, kitchens, dining rooms, and the living room. The best rooms were on the left-hand side, for these were the only ones to have windows, deep-set round windows looking over his garden, and meadows beyond, sloping down to the river.*

It was where the sitting room and kitchen were nearby, his favorite places at home, for they both held the objects in his house that were normally a hobbit's two favorite things to do when relaxing: eat and read. The sitting room had his armchair, fireplace with the two pictures of his parents, rounded window, shelves of many books, and his desk full of papers, maps, and collectibles that Bilbo viewed as family heirlooms.

"This Is AMAZING!" Lori cheered, her tiny voice echoing through the rounded hallways of his home. Bilbo couldn't help but smile at the little girl's undeniable cuteness. The Dainson siblings had set their bags near one of his armchairs in the sitting room and were already exploring, while Bilbo started boiling the tea and started making peanut-butter and jelly sandwiches (without the crusts) after having heard of Lori's suggestion and her older siblings agreeing a little hesitantly. They probably didn't know what food he had, Bilbo realized with a guilty start. So he added a seed cake, some cheese, strawberries, and biscuits. Also, goat milk to wash it down.

"Your home is beautiful, Mr. Baggins," Maia called out from the hallways. She sounded truly breathless with wonder. "We've never seen anything like it in real life!"

"Thank you, Miss Dainson!" The tea started whistling and Bilbo lifted it from the fire. "I try to keep that way! And I'm curious, what do you mean by 'real life?'" he added suddenly.

"Like this feels like something you would find in a painting, or a fairytale book," she admitted. "It's too good to be true! People don't usually built houses underground and then make it look this stunning from where we came from."

The words sounded strange, truly unexpected, but Bilbo couldn't help feeling touched by this compliment. He cleared his throat and called over, "Luncheon's ready! I hope you all like chamomile!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (*) footnote quote(s) from J.R.R. Tolkien


	4. I Believe You

Kyle felt Bilbo watch them as they ate, as if it were some custom to wait until knowing the guests were satisfied with their meal before helping himself. Or maybe he was just nervous around kids, a thought occurred to him while eying the hobbit beneath his dark bangs. Then again, the little dude had been twitchy nonstop for as long they had known him, which had not even been two hours yet. Kyle didn't feel that much different; ever since he woke up and found himself lying on fresh summer grass surrounded by an environment that did not match the earthy field of the farmhouse, his mind had been having trouble processing the changes around them.

Especially with the hills, the village, and its people. It was all very beautiful and classy, but it left a strange and unsettling feeling in his stomach that became easily suffocating.

When Kyle had been shouting at Lobelia, the female hobbit, to defend his little sister, it had partly been his old anger that returned to him from the farmhouse before they were attacked by those monsters.

Oh, yeah, the monsters! How could he forget? Their hideous, snarling faces had been at the back at his mind all while he and his sisters were trying to figure out what this place was and how they got here to begin with.

Did their grandparents notice that the three of them were missing yet? Like Dad. His stomach plummeted. Oh, God, what if they had the same conclusions about their whereabouts as he had about his father for the past eight months? _Kidnapped. Buried in a ditch somewhere. Staging an attack in order to disappear._ The last idea was ridiculous, but Kyle had seen enough mystery TV shows to get a little creative.

So, how are you enjoying the tea?" Bilbo asked, attempting to make a conversation after fifteen minutes of bashful silence.

"It's great, thank you," Maia answered with a small smile. Lori was sitting next to Mr. Baggins, eating a piece of everything set out on the table, while Kyle sat next to Maia, doing the same. "We also wanted to say thank you for doing this for us," she added. "You know, letting us stay here until we figure this all out. I swear that woman can build a cavalry against us if she wanted!"

"The Sackville-Bagginnes can be a tad sensitive when their space is invaded," agreed Bilbo. "It doesn't matter if it's visitors or other hobbits. Lobelia is one of the worst, and I know from personal experience."

"Friend of yours?" Maia joked, nibbling her strawberry.

"No, far from it, I'm afraid! We had tea here once, in my younger years when I thought about courting, but Lobelia's facade of courtesy can be quite unsettling. She was Lobelia Gracegirdle at the time, unwed. Her family and the Sackville-Baggines' had always been after my family's fortune, not to mention all its objects of interest and the family business itself...She was just the first to attempt in worming her way in, and at age twenty-eight, too! Anyway, I know better now." He shrugged.

Bilbo then noticed Kyle picking at his sandwich. "I must say, you-you quite startled a few hobbits out there." He chuckled nervously. "We thought that-erm-one of these folk was going to lose their temper to Lobelia one day, but I quite surprised to find it to be a child of Men strolling through. It almost looked like you were going to strike her," he squeaked a little at that.

"I wasn't going to hit a girl!" said Kyle, defensively.

"So, you're saying that if Lobelia wasn't a woman, you would hit her, then?"

"No! Not exactly," Kyle fumed. "She yelled at Lori. I just got mad and wanted to scare her."

"I was just playing," mumbled Lori, who was staring into her tea cup of milk, looking upset.

Bilbo hesitated, before awkwardly patting the small child on the back. "There now, never mind about all that nonsense," he said, trying to sound comforting. "If anything, it's Lobelia who should be ashamed, but you know what?" Lori met his gaze. "I personally don't want to talk about Lobelia anymore, or any Sackville-Baggins for that matter."

"I agree," nodded Maia, who sipped her tea. "What do y'all have in mind?"

"Well," decided Bilbo, "how about you start telling me where the three of you came from? Have you traveled far?"

"Um...yeah, it's a bit more complicated than that," admitted Maia, covering the awkwardness by taking another sip of tea. She didn't know how to start explaining, so Kyle decided to take over.

"We kind of woke up here," he said, watching Bilbo's confused expression. "Just on the outside of your village, but we have no idea how we got there, other than this big flash of light that came out of nowhere. Last night we were just at-at our family farmhouse for a one night sleepover by ourselves. We had just come from a HoeDown carnival while celebrating Maia's acceptance into Baylor University..." He paused, seeing the lost look on the hobbit's face. "It's a college. A school for older kids. Young adults, like Maia."

"Ah," Bilbo nodded, slightly enlightened.

"We're from Texas," piped in Lori. Bilbo's face fell again.

"I'm sorry," he said downheartedly. "I had never heard of a place called Texas. Is it a town, or village outside of the Shire? Off the maps, perhaps?"

"It's a state," answered Kyle, trying to sound like it was obvious, "from America?" Bilbo's expression was no different, and a flood of anxiety started to fill the his chest. "Are we still on Planet Earth?" His voice rose a notch.

"Kyle, calm down," Maia said mildly, but was unheeded. Kyle was panicking, losing his cool. Everything felt so wrong. So unreal.

Bilbo looked just as anxious as Kyle felt. He spluttered, trying to search for the right words with his hands. "Well...I-I-I suppose...Middle-earth is just that," he tried. "I've never left the Shire, so I suppose I wouldn't know where Texas-or this America-really is. And-And are you sure that what you're telling me is real?" His tone suddenly changed, sounding more accusing and traced with disbelief.

Kyle stilled. He glared at the hobbit. "You don't believe us?" he said coldly.

"The notion of coming from places that don't exist on my maps is outrageous," protested Bilbo, a little haughtily. "So forgive me if I have some trouble processing this information."

Kyle stood up so suddenly the table trembled, making everyone tense. He was having trouble breathing; he needed air.

He charged out into the hallway and didn't look back.

* * *

"Kyle, come-dammit!" Maia muttered when they heard him open the front door, though it didn't slam shut. "Sorry, I need to go after him." She stood up and Bilbo followed her lead.

"Miss Maia, I'm sorry," Bilbo said quickly with wide eyes, "I did not mean to upset him. That was really rude of me! I should apologize-"

"It's fine," Maia cut in, although she sounded tired. "He's just freaking out a little, that's all. I'll be right back. Sorry." Bilbo made small noise when the girl rushed out of the dining room after her brother.

_Oh, why on earth did I say such things like that to my guests?_ Bilbo sighed, feeling guilty. Then straightened up, feeling indignant like any Baggins should. The idea of places that were never heard of still left the hobbit feeling a little foolish. He had invited these young strangers into his home. He gave them some of his food. He had even stood up for them in front of all the hobbits in Hobbiton, even when he could have just walked away, like he had always done. And what did he get in return? Pranks? Childish games? Humiliation? He knew he was over thinking things, but they _are_ children. Not Maia, but she was close enough. He remembered faintly of his own years of childhood involving fun games and imagination, sometimes even making up names of places and creatures of legend.

Then again, the Dainson siblings were everything Bilbo had never seen or heard of before, in pictures or in real life, and from the looks in their expression (Bilbo was often good at reading people over tea time), they certainly didn't look like they were playing games. Especially Kyle.

If anything, they looked more than just sad and scared. They look lost. _You really got yourself in a pickle now, Mr. Bilbo Baggins!_ Bilbo pinched his bridge nose for a moment, feeling a headache coming. He didn't know what to think, or what to believe.

"Are you okay, Mr. Bilbo?" Bilbo was startled out his thoughts as Lori asked with a small voice. She was staring up at him with wide, concerned eyes. In the heat of things, he had forgotten that the child was still in the room.

While trying to find the right answer to her question, Lori got up and took the hobbit's hand. She was good head shorter than him, if not more. "We really are from Texas, Mr. Bilbo," she said softly. "We're not making it up!"

The little girl looked so pleading that Bilbo squeezed her little hand back and said, "I'm sorry, Lori. I really am, but you can hardly blame me for having a hard time accepting this, especially when there's no way to prove it...well, I mean you people definitely come from _somewhere_ , just by looking at your clothes and your, er, accents and whatnot-Why are you laughing?"

Lori was giggling. "You're funny!"

Bilbo blinked, and tilted his head. That was odd. "You, um…..you think I'm _funny?_ Why is that?" He had never really considered himself to be funny in any way...but then he remembered a few people or more laughing softly whenever he was around and he had never known why. He never asked until now.

"I don't know, you just are!" exclaimed Lori, smiling cheekily. "Mommy says that some people are just funny by nature 'cause they just make you happy by being themselves! Grandma says I'm like that, too! We're both funny!" She hugged her teddy bear close to her chin and rocked on her heels.

Bilbo found himself smiling, feeling much better. He found himself liking this innocent little girl even more, despite her odd behavior. Maybe it was the Took-ish part of him that was effected by her cheerfulness, or maybe it did that to _all_ people, but he had a very good feeling that he was already growing fond of her.

"Wanna see something cool?" she suddenly announced excitedly.

"Alright," he said, as she turned heel and started pulling him into the sitting room where their baggage lay piled near the armchair. He glanced at the mantelpiece and spotted his jar of homemade sugar cookies. One thing he certainly knew about children was that they _loved_ cookies. So did he. "Would you like a cookie or two, while we're at it?"

Lori beamed, as Bilbo reached up to take the glass jar off the mantelpiece and handed it to her. A sugary-sweet smell wafted her nose when she opened the jar and plucked out three soft cookies topped with powdered sugar. While Bilbo sat on the armchair to help himself with two of his own, Lori unclipped Maia's big purse and pulled out the object of her finding.

"What are you looking for?" asked Bilbo, putting the jar aside and peering over the chair's arm. "What is that?"

She held it in Bilbo's view, grinning mischievously. "Maia's sketchbook!"

* * *

Kyle had rushed outside, throwing open the round green, oak-wood door until he found himself on the front door steps of Bag-End's front lawn. He bent over his knees and started taking deep breaths, gulping in the fresh, clean air with the faint scent of summer grass and pine. It was not as hot as Texas by ten or twenty degrees, but he could feel sweat beading under his mop of unruly black hair, which right now shielded his eyes from the daylight that shined over an unknown world that threatened to suffocate him like being trapped in a bag with no holes. Where were the holes...the answers?

Feeling dizzy, he felt himself slump down on one of the stone steps and put his head in his hands between his legs, his fingers digging and gripping his scalp uncontrollably. Tears prickled his eyes, but didn't fall. If people were staring, he was too pissed to care.

Hearing light footsteps from cowboy boots approach behind him, Kyle didn't have to look up to know that Maia had come to join him. She gently sat down next to him and, instead of speaking, started rubbing his back in soothing, circular motions. His breathing slowed and his body relaxed, but his blood was still hot with annoyance from Bilbo's reproach. From the entire situation.

"Better?" Maia asked, putting her arm around his hunched shoulders, but then Kyle sniffled and croaked, "No."

"Okay, then. Just take deep breaths, okay? You're just having a panic attack-"

"Yeah, I'm panicking!" Kyle snarled, his head snapping up to glare at his sister. "Why aren't _you_? Are you in denial, or something?"

Maia's soft face steeled. "No, I'm just simply trying to stay calm and see how this all plays all out. We've only been here-what, two hours? This whole thing might not even be real. Or maybe it is. I don't know, but all I know is that if we're going to try to figure out what the hell is going on, it's important that we keep it together while we're doing it!"

"Oh," laughed Kyle bitterly, "that's easy for you to say, yoga girl, but in case you haven't noticed, _we're in another freaking world!_ As in, 'I don't think we're in Texas anymore,' Maia! We're in a place full of little people with hairy feet who don't know anything about the United States, and then they think _we're_ bat-shit crazy."

"Kyle-"

"Do _not_ try to deny it, Maia! Bilbo thinks we're crazy and you know it!"

"Fine, Kyle, I think Bilbo is just as freaked out as we are!" Maia said, exasperated. "Just put yourself in his shoes-or feet- _whatever_ he wears. What would you do if someone totally strange came up to our house in our world, and then they just told us they were from a place called Middle-earth, making it sound like they came from the middle ages or something? Would you believe them?"

"Depends," he grumbled.

"Kyle!"

"Okay, fine. No, I wouldn't! Not without real proof, anyway."

"So, we'll show him." Kyle looked at Maia, who smiled suddenly. "C'mon, Ky, we have a ton of stuff in our backpacks we can show him that will blow his mind! I have my sketchbook, my camera, my pens, my phone-oh wait, I lost it!-but you still have your gameboy, right?"

Kyle snorted. "How does my gameboy prove that we're from Texas?"

"It proves that we're from a different world," corrected Maia. "It won't solve all our problems, but it's a start. At least Bilbo will know who we are and what he's really dealing with." She nudged him playfully. "So, what do you think? Ready to go back inside and be mature about this, or are you just gonna sulk out here all day?"

He grinned and shoved at her. "Shut up," he said as she laughed. It was then he noticed a family of hobbits staring at them from the hill path, the children curious while the parents looked on with disapproval. Feeling annoyed, Kyle called out them, "Hey! Take a picture. It lasts longer!" Startled, the hobbit parents grabbed their children's hands and started scuttling on their way. Maia giggled, while Kyle laid his hands on the back of his head, looking proud and relaxed.

When they went back inside, closing the door behind them, they heard Lori exclaiming excitedly in the living room and Bilbo talking. When entering, the hobbit and their little sister were sitting in one of the armchairs together, three open books in their laps. One was Maia's sketchbook, still open, and two others were leather booklets that looked like journals.

Lori was pointing out the sketch of their horse ranch when Bilbo looked up, hearing the older Dainson siblings enter. Bilbo shifted uncomfortably (seeing as he can't stand up with little Lori practically on his lap), but he acknowledged their presence, "Oh, good, you're back! Are you alright, Kyle?" He sounded genuinely concerned.

"Yeah, I'm good." Kyle shrugged, trying to act indifferent despite feeling a bit ashamed for bursting out of the room in the middle of a conversation like a whiner baby.

"I, um," Bilbo began, looking slightly ashamed himself. "I wanted to apologize for my rude behavior earlier. I have never had Big Folk inside my home before...well, as least for as long as I can remember...but you are still my guests, after all, and I would like to-that is to say, if you would prefer it-I would still like to be of service." He cleared his throat. "I would also like to say-if you would pardon my brief skepticism at the table-that I...I believe you."

Now _Kyle_ was skeptical. "You do?" he said, trying to sense the no-nonsense in all of this. He pointed at the open sketchbook. "Is it because you saw Maia's drawings? Because even that couldn't be much proof!"

"I don't need more proof," assured Bilbo. "Well, considering that everything about the three of you is profoundly strange and untraditionally outlandish-pardon me again, I mean no offense-but either way, it's not up to me to decide where you came from, only that I should accept that, if you really are good people, that you must be telling the truth. And in my opinion, as strange as you are, I do not view you young ones as bad folk. Not at all," he stated firmly.

Kyle started to smile at the hobbit's warm words, feeling his previous anger and anxiety melt away. He could tell Maia was doing the same next to him.

"I will not pretend to understand any of it-because I don't, not by a field's length-but I believe you," continued the hobbit. "So if you still want to stay here in Bag End for a little while, I would truly like to know more about where you came from. Lori here has shown me quite some marvelous sketches here-oh, if you didn't mind," Bilbo quickly said to Maia, after realizing to his shock and embarrassment that they had been looking without asking. "Your sister said she wanted to show me, and I just assumed-"

Maia shrugged, smirking. "Don't sweat it! They're mostly just sceneries from home; nothing special."

"I beg to differ," commented Bilbo, flipping a few more pages that revealed some horses, some with riders and cowboy hats. "If anything, the pictures themselves revel with some of what the Shire has. Horses, farms, fields...although the hats look a little silly, and the boots..." Bilbo glanced towards Maia's boots, and then Lori's. "Like yours."

"They're cowboy boots," chirped Lori. "Or cow _girl_ boots for us! We have a lot of cowboys in Texas. They wear cowboy hats and cowboy boots and, oh, the golden star badge, too!"

"No, Lori, that's just for sheriffs," scoffed Kyle. "And sheriffs are usually only found in small towns, anyway!"

"Are _you_ a cowboy?" Bilbo asked Kyle, eyes wide with curiosity.

Kyle snorted. "Nope, but I did pretend to be one all the time when I was little. Hat, boots, fake gun, and all. Cowboys are really cattle drivers that have been in the West around two hundred years ago. They're, like, our culture and our stereotype, but there's just mostly normal people now. Oh, I wouldn't do that," he warned Bilbo suddenly, who had flipped to the page with Maia's colorful hairbands strapped around half of the book like a lock.

Bilbo's hands froze, when he had been about to remove the hairbands. "Is it private from here?"

"Uh, yeah," Maia said, uncomfortably. "Those pages are M rated."

Bilbo frowned innocently. "I-I don't understand your meaning."

"It's just...mostly inappropriate stuff. Private pleasures." Kyle almost gagged at her words. He had the personal experience of peeking into her "private pleasures" when he was eleven, and the sight made him want to gouge his eyes out (he had thought a little bit differently toward Maia that day). "You know...like nudity?"

_That's just describing it lightly,_ thought Kyle with a shudder.

_"Oh!"_ Bilbo's eyes went wide like saucers, blushing fiercely, causing all the kids to laugh at his completely flustered face. He quickly snapped the book shut and placed it aside. "You're right. Completely private. Not my business. At all! Wonderful drawings, though."

"Thank you," said Maia, catching her breath from laughter.

"What about yours?" said Lori, who picked up one of the leather journals. She opened one and looked on with wide eyes as she flipped through the pages. "Wow! Maia, look at these!"

"Holy cow!" gasped Maia, as she knelt next to the armchair to look at the drawings in the book. When Kyle followed her, he gawked. They were mostly drawing of Hobbiton and the rest of the Shire, but they were in such fine, breathtaking detail that Kyle could have sworn they were drawn by Da Vinci himself.

"Oh, those are a mixture of my mother's and mine," explained Bilbo, smiling fondly as Maia traced her fingers delicately over the sketches. "Some of them are recent, when I go on long walks and blow a few smoke rings on a fine day like today. I remember my mother teaching me all there is to know about catching the tiniest detail in even the smallest of things. It was one of our favorite activities together, sharing this book, just the two of us, while Da was off doing his own business."

"Our mother is an artist, too," said Maia, softly, her gray-blue eyes never leaving the drawings. "That and a horse trainer. Like her, I'm aiming to get a college degree on studio art, maybe even travel a bit, just to expand the mind."

"Does your mother know where you are?" Bilbo asked her. "Does she know-does she know that you're _not_ in Texas anymore?"

If the topic hadn't suddenly turned so solemn, Kyle would have been laughing to tears at Bilbo's choice of words (being the very same thing he had quoted from a classic children's book when he had been panicking on the doorstep of the hobbit hole). But when bringing their mother into the conversation, the very recent memory of her body lying in a hospital bed for eight months now, his throat began to choke up. None of them spoke, not even Lori, who was suddenly looking sad.

"No," Maia answered for them, finally. "She doesn't. Not yet." She still held on to the tiny thread of hope that their mother would wake up, even if by chance they were still stuck in this world when that happened. "That's why we need to get back home, ASAP." Bilbo twitched his nose, but didn't comment on the initials.

Kyle knew she wouldn't mention the part of their half-dead mom being in a coma. It didn't seem necessary. They weren't planning to stay for long, after all. Like they also agreed not to tell Bilbo about the monsters, before they went inside. Kyle decided to brief Lori on that later.

"This book is empty," Lori said suddenly, picking up the other journal. It was a wide version with a chestnut-red leather binding. There was even an acorn symbol carved in the center, along with gold lining and the golden initials BB for Bilbo Baggins. The pages were yellow parchment, dry and scratchy over the surface, and were indeed blank.

"Oh, yes, that," Bilbo started to say, "was a gift from my grandfather, the Old Took, my mother's father. It was a birthday present from when I was a child." He chuckled to himself, recalling a fond memory. "It was meant for me to write down my adventures when I grew old enough to have them." Then his smiled faded, so he straightened up and composed himself, as if he shared something very private and felt uncomfortable after admitting it. He closed the book and then stood suddenly, returning the two journals to his bookshelf. "Oh, well...it doesn't matter. Not anymore. Adventures are not something to look forward in any case."

"You don't like adventures?" Lori said in disbelief. "Why? They're a lot of fun!"

"I am quite content with my life the way it is, Lori," answered Bilbo, gently. "Besides, adventures would mean I would have to leave my home, my books, my armchair, my garden...it also makes you late for dinner. Personal experience in my youth, mind you. My old father never failed to remind me."

Neither of the Dainson siblings said this aloud, but to them, being in an unfamiliar place at the least likely of times that both scared and excited them, it already felt like an adventure.

Then Bilbo turned around, clapping his hands together, looking more enthusiastic. "Alright, enough of that now. Since we are all here, and if you really want me to help with your current situation, we have more important things to discuss. There's quite a few things we have to cover up if the three of you are going to be staying in Hobbiton for a while. For starters, Maia..." He looked up at her and put his hands on his hips, nodding at her clothes: skinny jeans and ruffled tank top. "As _lovely_ as I truly find your clothing to be, I'm afraid we have to change the attire. As soon as possible."

"Why?" demanded Maia, clearly insulted. She put her hands on her hips and eyed the hobbit, looking taller. "What's wrong with my clothes?"

Bilbo suddenly blushed and looked at his feet. "Well...ahem...don't take this wrong way, Miss Maia...though I am certain that where you came from, your clothes deem appropriate enough, but...erm...to me and-and from the looks of most of the neighbors outside, from where I can see-please don't be too hard on me, Miss Maia, but I'm just going to say it straight off to avoid the awkward confusion." He gestured feebly at her bare shoulders, while cowering slightly. "You're too exposed," he squeaked.

There was a pregnant pause. Then Kyle and Lori burst out laughing. _This is getting ready for church with Gran and Gramps all over again!_ Kyle thought as he drowned in his giggles. Lori actually tumbled out of the armchair in her fevered laughter, clutching her stomach.

Maia gave them all a black glare, her face turning pink. Bilbo gave her a sheepish grin.


	5. Good Morning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter features the song "Cups." Be it from Lulu and the Lampshades or Anna Kendricks from Pitch Perfect.

It has been ten days since the Dainson siblings had first woke up in the Shire, entered Hobbiton, and first stepped into Bilbo Baggins' comfortable, fancy, underground home. In the meantime, even though there had been some sleepless nights for both Maia and Kyle, the two of them discussing the possibilities of their "teleportation" to Middle-earth (as Bilbo called it), the life in Hobbiton proved to be very content. Especially for Lori, who loved every single bit of it, minus the hobbits like Lobelia Sackville-Baggins.

The first night they had spent in Bag End proved to be restless. Lori had been a little afraid of sleeping in the rooms, since the back of the house had no windows or electricity for night lights, so when Kyle and Maia were sound asleep by the time it was past twelve, the little girl took her little flashlight and decided to go into the sitting room, taking her teddy bear with her. As cozy and cute as Bag End looked (like living the tale of Thumblina, Lori thought), the twisted roots gripping the wall looked like ghoulish fingers in the dark, even beneath her flashlight, making her shiver and whimper. She kept thinking about the ghouls that had attacked them back at home, making her too scared to fall asleep in fear of getting nightmares.

The sitting room was not far down the hall, but seeing the light coming from there and feeling the heat, the fire place was still lit. When she entered, she saw Bilbo Baggins had fallen asleep on the armchair, an open book in his lap. She giggled softly. Grandpa did the same thing; fall asleep in the middle of doing something, whether it be reading, drinking, watching TV, or smoking (one time, and it had earned him a burnt spot on his lap). She only knew Bilbo since this morning (or yesterday morning, given how late it is), but she already felt attached to him. Like an uncle, or big brother put together. A mixture of her grandparents and her siblings. Like a favorite character in a story, or the real-life version of an imaginary friend. She felt safe around him, like a second parent or guardian.

Lori did not to pat Bilbo on the knee. "Bilbo?" she whispered.

She shook him until he woke up, twitching his nose while he blinked sleepily. "What?" he mumbled. Then he recognized her. "Oh, Lori...hey...what time is it?"

"Midnight, I think." She shrugged.

"Oh." Bilbo pinched his face. "Must've drifted off. I should probably...why aren't _you_ asleep?"

Lori shifted, hugging her bear, suddenly shy. She was in her pajamas, her pants hot pink while printed with ponies and her shirt a pale pink with long sleeves, looking adorable, even though Bilbo had never seen nightwear like hers before. "I'm scared of the dark," she mumbled. "I didn't wanna wake Maia and Kyle. Can I stay here with you?"

Bilbo was loss for words for a moment. Personally, he felt that he would crossing boundaries on the little girl, because clearly he was a stranger to a small child who he had no close relations to, in family or race. On the other hand...he sighed and nodded.

Lori brightened and, to Bilbo's surprise, started crawling into his lap, moving the book over. Bilbo bit back a protest when she curled up and snuggled there, surprisingly fitting even though she wasn't that much smaller than he was. After brief feeling of intrusion faded, he relaxed in submission. He didn't like being touched, like most others who had boundaries, but with Lori...he actually found it quite comforting. He never really held a human child in his lap before, just a couple of little cousins of his from time to time, but Bilbo often had to remind himself to get use to it. Living alone can do that sometimes, he thought to himself.

"Do you think I'm scardy cat?" mumbled Lori, sleepily. Her little head was nestled in his shoulder, her bear propped between them.

Hesitantly, Bilbo wrapped his arms around the child, mostly so that she wouldn't fall when she fell asleep, but also to add reassurance. "Do you want to know a secret?" he said softly.

"Mm-hm..." She was almost asleep.

"I'm scared of the dark, too," he whispered. When he heard her silent breathing, like little wisps of air, a smile crept on his face, and soon he fell back asleep too.

* * *

The next morning, Maia had woken up before Kyle, being an early riser while the young teenage boy can sleep until two p.m. if he wanted. She had found Lori curled up with Bilbo, her thumb in her mouth, finding the sight sweet, though it gave a slightly uncomfortable feeling in her stomach. Usually, when Lori got scared at night, she would go to their parents' bedroom and curl up in between them, and when Mom and Dad were out of the picture, she either went to her grandparents, or Maia, or Kyle. Now she went to Bilbo. They barely knew the man, were barely settling in, and Lori seemed already _imprint on_ the hobbit. It was funny, adorable, and sad, because eventually they would have leave, but Maia didn't interfere.

Later on, Bilbo had revealed to them every day that he had six meals a day: breakfast, second breakfast, elevenies, luncheon, afternoon tea, and dinner. One thing the kids knew fort certain was that they were never going to go hungry while they stayed here.

It had taken three days for the hobbits in Hobbiton to finally get used to the fact that there were three humans staying in their area, most especially in Bag End, a place that made some certain hobbits envious of the Dainsons staying the large, rich home that Mr. Baggins owned respectfully. The stares had lessened and become more friendly and polite, to their relief, but not throughly with some respectable families.

"How do hobbits know what's respectable or not?" Kyle pointed out one day, who was growing tired of the whispering and stares at their backs. He had been helping Bilbo repaint the door green that day, finding something to do other than play his gameboy or look at the hobbit's maps all day. "The whole thing sounds kind of ridiculous!"

"It's just the way it is!" exclaimed Bilbo. Sometimes he had to check his patience with the boy, who was undoubtedly the hot head of his siblings. Kyle proved to have this way of driving people crazy. Lori was like that, too, but in the preferable way while her brother knew how to make people angry. "I told you that we are quiet folk and are often weary of outsiders! If you must know, I'm feel very much the same as they do because that is how we live! It cannot be helped! You missed a spot," he added, and Kyle put a coat of green paint over the oak wood. Helping paint the door was also the least Kyle could do thank Bilbo for giving them a place to stay, even if it was temporary.

* * *

On the fourth day, Bilbo had finally managed to find proper-sized Shire clothes for the kids, shipped from a Brandybuck who had offered her seamstress skills, which was a relief because they each only had three pairs of clothes (including the PJs) and Maia found that was about time they did laundry. Also, Bilbo had meant it when he said Maia's tight jeans and tank top made her look too exposed in the eyes of the Shire folk; the hobbits staring wide-eyed and disapproval, including a few exclamations from some older folk, had confirmed it. She had worn her jeans for three days, because she couldn't bring herself to put on her shorts, which were really short and slightly torn.

Maia wore a simple violet skirt that ended at her shins (all hobbit dresses ended at their shins anyway), a white button down with long elbow-length sleeves, and chocolate-brown jerkin vest that she had to tie over her white shirt like a leather corset. She kept her cowboy boots and her hair down. The clothes were surprisingly comfortable, though Maia kept having nostalgic flashbacks of getting dressed for her musical rehearsals in the high school she just graduated from. While her casuals were hanging on the laundry line, she felt happier and less like an outsider.

Kyle was trickier to dress up, while Lori was the easiest of the three.

All Bilbo had to do was pick up some hand-me-downs from a few Took families and soon Lori had piles of little hobbit dresses to choose from, making it Christmas early for the little girl. Her favorite dress was white and puffy sleeved with blue bells and a little apron, much to Lori's delight.

Kyle, on the other hand, made it loud and clear that he was _not_ wearing overalls, or shin length trousers, feeling that it would make look stupid like a yodeler. Bilbo eventually found man-sized trousers that were sent over through the market from nearby farmers over The Hill. They were slightly too big, so Bilbo had them hemmed at bottom, sewn by himself, and added a belt with it. It also came with a white long-sleeved button down shirt with a murky-green waistcoat and a blue overcoat. He also got worn man-sized boots, slightly big, but Kyle decided he wanted to keep his black-and-white sneakers, even though they didn't match with his new Shire clothing. When Kyle was wore all this, including the coat, Lori squealed in excitement, "You look _exactly_ like the Artful Dodger in _Oliver!_ AH! Do you have a tall hat, Mr. Bilbo?"

"Oh-ho, no! I am not wearing a tall hat!" Kyle retorted before Bilbo could speak. "This is as good as I'm gonna get, girl, so y'all take a good look at it before it's gone!" The protesting argument between the two younger siblings went on while Maia thanked Bilbo for all the clothes. That night, Bilbo slumped on the bench outside to smoke his pipe, feeling exhausted but rather proud of himself.

* * *

For the rest of the time, Bilbo had already shown them all of Hobbiton, from the houses to Green Dragon Inn to the markets and back. The beauty of it all never ceased to amaze and enjoy. Bilbo had even taken them to the tavern for a drink (though Bilbo drank beer, while the kids ended up with cider or milk, since soda wasn't an option anymore). Beer was famous in Texas as well, but here in Middle-earth, with or without a parent's permission, Maia was already considered old enough to drink beer.

Excited by this fact, Kyle and Lori urged Maia to order a beer and give it a shot.

After some convincing, Maia finally gave in and Bilbo happily brought over a pint for her. Some other friendly hobbit overheard this first drink ceremony and gathered to watch as Maia held her mug with both hands, hesitating while Kyle and Lori started chanting with pumping fists, "Drink! Drink! Drink!" Soon, a few other younger and more curious hobbits joined in. Trying not to laugh, Maia sipped the beer, which tasted bland and bitter, but when the chants continued ruthlessly, she ended up taking larger gulps, the liquid burning her throat with a vengeance. They all watched with wide-eyed, gaping awe until she drained her mug, slammed it down with a gasp (trying not to gag), and then a loud uproar of cheers came after that. Maia hiccuped and smiled, already feeling woozy and drunk, her vision slightly blurry. She could feel Bilbo rubbing her back sympathetically before starting to introduce them to a few of these hobbits, who turned out to be Took cousins of himself, which explained a lot.

The Tooks, if anything, proved to be much more likable than of the most hobbits in Hobbiton. Some of the men had even complimented continuously on Maia's beauty, saying that she could be the Green Lady herself. The Dainsons could not understand why they were one of the least respectable families when their personalities alone could gain them many friends. Even if Bilbo didn't realize it, he was lucky to be related to them.

In the tavern, Maia had then started singing, which to Bilbo and the hobbits' amazement, was quite a beautiful voice. The performance was strange, but extremely fun, since the girl was using her mug as her musical instrument. They watched with stolen breaths and silence as she patted, clapped and flipped the cup with talented ease before she started singing what Kyle and Lori recognized as "Cups":

**I got my ticket for the long way 'round**

**Two bottle 'a whiskey for the way**

**And I sure would like some sweet company**

**And I'm leaving tomorrow, wha-do-ya say?**

**When I'm gone**

**When I'm gone**

**You're gonna miss me when I'm gone**

**You're gonna miss me by my hair**

**You're gonna miss me everywhere, oh**

**You're gonna miss me when I'm gone**

**I've got my ticket for the long way 'round**

**The one with the prettiest of views**

**It's got mountains, it's got rivers, it's got sights to give you shivers**

**But it sure would be prettier with you**

**When I'm gone**

**When I'm gone**

**You're gonna miss me when I'm gone**

**You're gonna miss me by my walk**

**You're gonna miss me by my talk, oh**

**You're gonna miss me when I'm gone**

Her song was awarded with an applause, urges for more songs and even a nearby fiddler offered to play music for her, but Maia looked so dizzy that Bilbo announced that it was time to go. When they said good-bye, Bilbo and Kyle had to escort a dizzy, but jittery Maia back home, while Lori tottered ahead. "I think we just found out that you are the cheapest drunk in history," commented Kyle.

"Shut up," giggled Maia, her cheeks rosy. "Beer tasted awful...don't see why...so funny...they were all funny looking people! Cutie pies! Heh, heh, heh!" Kyle smiled and was trying not laugh as she stumbled, and Bilbo, though being much shorter, caught her around the waist.

"No more beers for you, missy," grumbled Bilbo, and Maia laughed harder. When they got home, Maia had reached the bathroom and threw up. Afterwards, Bilbo escorted her to bed and collapsed on the mattress.

* * *

The next morning at breakfast, Maia had woken up from a hangover and felt terrible, but Kyle and Lori were _laughing_ at her. While her siblings were hanging out in the living room, looking at Bilbo's books and maps, she sat the table with her head in her hands and Bilbo had already made her tea, which she took gratefully.

"Mom and Dad would've killed me," she muttered. She rubbed her aching brow. "Ugh, never again..."

"Well, if it's any consolation," Bilbo tried, "I had three beers on my thirty-third name day and was told I ended up dancing and singing ridiculously on the tavern tables. My father showed no mercy the next morning, of course. It was the first and last time I got drunk like that."

"Thirty-third?" Maia eyed him under her tangled hair. "Think that's a little old for your dad to be scolding you?"

"Well, not if I just came of age at the time."

"Huh? Wait! _Thirty-three_ is when...when you become a _legal adult?_ " Despite her headache, Maia observed Bilbo more closely. The hobbit could not be older than thirty-five or so, or young-looking early forties (the childish twinkle in his eyes made him look young). "Can I ask how old are you?"

"Fifty-one."

"Really?" Maia was surprised. "You look much younger."

"Oh, ah...heh, heh! Sorry, hobbits have a different age process than Men, though not by much. Hobbits can live up to one hundred and ten years, while Men can live up to eighty years."

"Yeah, that's a scientific fact, but there's a lot people...humans that have lived past a hundred!"

"Oh, I have no doubt about it!" agreed Bilbo. "My grandfather, the Old Took, had made past a hundred and thirty before he finally passed away."

"A hundred and..." Maia's eyes widened. "Damn!"

Bilbo let out a startled laugh. "I reckon that most hobbits make it their goal to reach that age before they die. I know that I'm one of them."

"Well, if you're planning to make to a hundred and thirty," Maia said, raising her tea cup, "then I'm planning on making it to a hundred and _one._ Let's see which of us beats the record first. _"_

"Cheers to that," complimented Bilbo, clinking tea cups with her.

* * *

Later on the Dainsons had also attempted explaining their favorite food recipes to Bilbo, who was listening with a certain longing on his face. Chili with sprinkled cheese and peppers, deep-fried steak with A-1, brisket tacos, combo pizza, apple pie, ice cream, hot-spicy chicken wings, and (Kyle's personal favorite) spuds. Spuds were massive potatoes that were normally stuffed with all the topping available: cheese, butter, sour cream, bacon bits, caramelized onions, mushrooms, broccoli, chives-

"Oh, my God!" groaned Maia, interrupting Kyle. "So many calories! I swear that one bite fills you up for three days!"

"Hey, just because you're a skinny stick, doesn't mean I need to be!" complained Kyle. Bilbo chuckled at this, listening while he was smoking his pipe. He did wonder if a spud would make up all six meals a day. He had some potatoes and some ingredients. Maybe if Dainsons had time, they would teach him how to make one.

* * *

Finally, on the tenth day, it was up until past nine 'o'clock that Bilbo realized that the kids had decided to sleep in. He had checked into their room and found them all still passed out, Kyle's black hair a tangled mess, Maia's legs tangled in the sheets, while Lori slept on her back at the end, holding her teddy bear and making no noise. They all wore their unusual night attire, or "pajamas" as they called them. All and all, they looked peaceful.

Sighing, Bilbo gently closed the door a crack, went to dress in his normal trousers, white shirt with a golden waistcoat, and his favorite yellow scarf, grabbed his pipe, and then went outside his front door to greet yet another lovely day in Hobbiton. The sun was warm, the birds were singing, the people were chatting happily from a distance...Bilbo inhaled and exhaled, stretching his muscles with satisfaction, the peace of this particular day already taking over.

When he sat down on the bench, lighting his pipe with the best weed, Old Toby, its sweet and spiciness filling his lungs soothingly, he sucked in the pipe and blew out three perfectly round smoke rings. Bilbo then closed his eyes, letting the morning sunlight bask his cheeks as he breathed into the smoke and let his mind clear of all worries and thoughts of anything before starting the day.

Suddenly, the smoke ring shrunk into the shape of a butterfly, which fluttered playfully around the meditated hobbit, until it darted into his upturned nose, startling him out of his dozing.

Blinking and wriggling his nose, Bilbo looked up and was surprised to see a tall, old man in gray clothes and a gray pointed hat. His beard was also gray, rather long and scruffy, and so were the sharp pair of eyes under his immensely bushy eyebrows. In both his fingerless gloved hands was a long, wooden staff, no doubt polished and gnarled at the base like the twisted roots of an oak tree.

The old man was staring down at him with a mixture of amusement and curiosity.

When this continued, Bilbo shifted uncomfortably, feeling intimidated by this tall human stranger, but he nodded his head politely without standing up. "Good morning," he said, tilting his pipe, hoping it hinted at the stranger to move along.

Instead, the old man tilted his head. "What do you mean?" he asked, his voice low and gruff, but not without a tad of enthusiasm. "Do you mean to wish me a good morning, or do you mean that it is a good morning whether I want it or not? Or perhaps you feel good on this particular morning? Or are you simply stating that this is a morning to be good on? Hm?"

Bilbo sat, his pipe frozen in hand, slightly stunned from how this stranger could ask three direct questions at once over one daily greeting, let alone all in one breath without effort. Face slightly pinched, he waved his pipe to relocate his speech. "All of them at once, I suppose," he answered, not knowing how else to put it. After all, he was certain that _nobody_ had ever asked anyone about the meaning of their "good mornings" so directly before.

The wizard's smile faded and his eyes narrowed slightly as he continued to observe the hobbit with a more calculating look. Now feeling uncomfortable, sensing that this man wasn't about to leave, Bilbo finally gave in. "Can I help you?"

"That remains to be seen," murmured the stranger, almost to himself. Then in a bolder tone, "I'm looking for someone to share in an adventure." He raised his bushy eyebrows in inquiry.

Bilbo was so surprised that he didn't feel the pipe handle leave his mouth. "An adventure..." he stammered, but flinched back as if the word were the cause of a ridiculous notion. He almost scoffed, but instead looked at the old man up in the eye, pointing out mildly, "No, I don't imagine anyone west of _Bree_ would have much interest in adventures."

Then he stood up and walked over to his mailbox. "Nasty, disturbing, uncomfortable things," he explained, while opening his mailbox and plucked out the letters. "Make you late for dinner. Heh, heh." He chuckled without humor, as he started shuffling through his letters, chewing his pipe handle casually while trying to ignore the gray stranger.

Now certain that the man wasn't going away, Bilbo grew increasingly annoyed and then finally made a grunt of dismissal before turning around. "Good morning," he saluted, while starting to head back inside, wondering if the Dainson siblings were awake yet.

"To think that I should live to be 'good morninged' by Belladonna Took's son!" Bilbo froze at the man's rude accusation, but it was his dear old mother's name that made him turn around. "As if I were selling buttons at the door!" the stranger added scornfully.

Bilbo frowned, feeling protective of his dead mother's name all of the sudden. "Beg your pardon?"

The old man shook his head, looking disappointed. "You've changed," he said sadly, "and not entirely for the better, Bilbo Baggins."

Seeing that the gray stranger in a tall pointy hat knew his name—knew his own mother's name—Bilbo grew slightly wary. Come to think of it, this human looked slightly familiar... "I'm sorry, do I know you?"

"Well, you know my name, although you don't remember I belong to it," the old man pointed out. He spread his arms in greeting. "I'm Gandalf. And Gandalf means...well, _me!"_ He gave a small smile.

"Gandalf...Gandalf!" His eyes widened as long-buried memories started crashing back, as Bilbo stared at the old man—no, the _wizard—_ in amazement. "Not Gandalf the wandering wizard who made such excellent fireworks? Old Took used to have them on Midsummer's Eve! Heh, heh—ahem!" Bilbo cleared his throat, cutting his Tookish excitement short and then quickly regained his haughty figure, eying the wizard suspiciously.

"No idea you were still in business," he said, casually putting his pipe between his teeth, trying to act unswayed.

Gandalf's smile faded. "And where else should I be?" he inquired, sounding a tad insulted.

"Where else—? Ahem!" Bilbo shifted, suddenly uncomfortable. He started puffing his pipe, covering his awkwardness.

Gandalf squinted at him from behind his beak-like nose. "Well, I'm pleased to find you remember something about me..." He sniffed. "Even if it's only my fireworks." Then he nodded to himself, mood changing to satisfaction when he announced, "Yes. Well, that's decided!"

Watching the wizard shift the staff, Bilbo was pleased to note that he was finally leaving, when Gandalf pointed at him, "It'll be very good for you..."

Bilbo started to smile, then froze with a confused frown. _Wait, what?_

"...and most amusing for me." He gathered up his cloak and nodded to Bilbo as he made to depart. "I shall inform the others."

"Inform the who? What? No. No. No—wait!" Panicking and forgetting his manners, Bilbo started retreating up his porch steps before facing the wizard again. " _We_ do _not_ want _any_ adventures _here,_ thank you. Not today. Not—I suggest you try Over the Hill or...Across the Water." He started to go inside, but not before adding a final "Good morning!" and then hastily retreated inside without wasting breath.

Leaning against the door, Bilbo fumbled with the lock and latched it in place, heart pounding rapidly. Satisfied, he made to move, but then a scratching noise made him freeze and listen. _What on earth is that blasted wizard doing now?_

He went to look out the window. Suddenly, a bearded face appeared, making him gasp and leap into the hallway in fright, out of sight. The face lingered for a moment, and Bilbo waited until it was gone.

Nerves still tethering on edge, Bilbo darted to his other window in the sitting room and watched until the wizard marched out of sight.


	6. At Your Service

Bilbo twitched his nose disdainfully, deciding that he didn't like the wizard, or rather his sort. Not with all that talk of adventures in the middle of the hobbit's peaceful life. It was absurd and unsettling. Out of the blue. Still, he couldn't help but recall a nearly faded memory. One of his earliest memories as a small child...

_The night sky lit up in tremendous explosions of bright, colorful fireworks. Their loud BOOM sounds vibrated across The Hills and houses of the Shire, their dazzling beauty twinkling down like raining stars. The hobbits cheered happily as they watched, dancing and clapping with the musical fiddles that played up to its hearty beat. Little four year-old Bilbo giggled mirthfully, reaching his tiny hand up as if to catch one of those glittering stars, hopping on his hairy tiptoes eagerly._

_He watched as the grown-ups celebrated through drinks and laughter, looming above him in clothes of cheery colors, wearing cuffs and ribbons that danced like the mini firecrackers that fluttered into the shape of butterflies. He even spotted his dark-haired mother, leaning fondly on the shoulder of his grandfather, the Old Took, and the only hobbit Bilbo ever saw with hairy sideburns that resembled a beard._

_Bilbo had his wooden sword as he played with his Took cousins around the festivities, when he spotted a gray giant in the center of the firecrackers. He gaped in innocent wonder, and then smiled mischievously before raising his toy sword in the air, squeaking, "Sway the giant!" and charged forward, whacking it in the giant's backside. The giant turned and parried with little Bilbo's sword, and the baby hobbit squealed with glee as he felt the thrill of his match spin with fun._

_Somewhere he heard his mother call out his name, but the toddler paid no mind. Finally, he stopped waving his sword and he felt the giant's hand ruffled his little, curly head affectionately, before Belladonna appeared in view to take his mini sword in one hand and his shoulders in the other. She made a move to scold him, but her face softened into a loving smile at her child's wide, twinkling eyes._

_He was a Took, after all. Just like her..._

"Morning, Bilbo!" Lori's voice replaced the memory of Belladonna Took, back in the present. The little human girl was standing in the hallway, still her pink pajamas, her long hair a bed-mess as she rubbed her sleepy eyes, her teddy bear dangling to the floor in her other hand. "Whatcha dong?"

"Nothing!" Bilbo stepped away from the window and forced a smile. "Just went outside to for a pipe of tobacco. To fetch these." He held up his letters before slapping them down absentmindedly on his desk. "I have breakfast on the table. Bacon, sausage, and eggs! I'll go heat them up for you." He strolled over into the kitchen, Lori following behind.

As Bilbo heated up their breakfast, firing the stove under the frying pan, Lori was seated at the table, lying her head down, using her bear as a pillow. She must have been up late again. They all must have been... _again._ Bilbo sighed, feeling his hunger return, hoping his second serving of breakfast-maybe a cake or two and a drink-would calm his earlier fright with the wizard. Adventures! He shivered from the dreadful thoughts that still lingered, and yet...was there not a spark of excitement or intrigue? It was there for only a moment, but then it was crushed by the reality of the topic.

He was a Baggins of Bag End. He had no interest in leaving his doorstep for no apparent reason, risking the preservation of his respectability (as it was already dangling by a thread while letting human younglings from an unknown land stay in his home, surrounded by hobbits with mixed opinions on this act of hospitality), to go with a wizard he hardly had any memory of except for his well-known, traveling business involving magic and fireworks and...

 _Magic!_ The thought gave him a start, making his hand jerk and accidentally touch the hot frying pan.

"YOUCH! OW!" yelped Bilbo, making Lori jump awake. "Bollocks! Confound it!" he cursed, rubbing his hand as he rushed it over to the nearby sink.

"Are you okay?" squeaked Lori, looking startled.

"Yes, yes, I'm alright," gritted Bilbo, running cold water over his small, white burn mark. "Nothing serious; it'll be better in a moment. Carry on!" Even though the pain was quickly fading, he still inwardly cursed himself, and it was not for burning himself.

He could not _believe_ how thoughtless and stupid he had been! There had been a reason that he had invited the Dainson siblings into his home: to help them find a way back to theirs. Whether or not it was normal for them to stay up late at night, and as much all of them seem to enjoy their stay in Hobbiton, anyone would find it obvious that they still find their surrounding quite unfamiliar and that at least one of them had to feel homesick. Bilbo meant it the first time when he said that he believed they came from another world—even more so when Kyle and Maia showed him and then demonstrated their "electronics," they called them—and as fascinated and wary as he felt about their strangeness during the time of their stay, he rather enjoyed their company.

They weren't what his own people would have deemed to be proper, all three of them being completely outgoing and independent as well stubborn and feisty. As much as their actions and behavior sometimes appalled Bilbo, it also gave him some kind of secret pleasure, as though their stay had awoken something in him that had been buried for so long that he never realized it had gone and now he almost wished it wouldn't go away.

The feeling was hard to describe, but it involved mirth. Pride. Curiosity. Awe. Fondness. It was a good feeling. A little too good, as though it were something shameful, but he was too addicted to be rid of it. It had only been a little more than a week and, even though there was still so much more to know about young Maia, Kyle, and Lori Dainson, he almost felt like he knew them their whole lives. Or at least liked the idea of wanting to.

Now he felt ashamed of himself for losing track of the real purpose behind their stay. The hobbit had been so absorbed in his morning pleasures, and the past ten days of playing a good host to these three wonderful children, that he had completely forgotten that he was supposed to help them seek out all the possibilities of finding their way back home. Even through magic.

A wizard was just on his doorstep, practically throwing open offers in Bilbo's face like that of a traveling salesman. A person who was full of wisdom and powerful magic. A person who probably had a better chance of helping the Dainsons than Bilbo, and now he was gone because the hobbit had given it no thought at the time. He had just let an opportunity for the youngsters slip out of reach because he had been afraid for himself.

Inexcusable, and embarrassing. He inwardly groaned. Now, reluctantly, he had to hope that Gandalf hadn't gone and left Hobbiton just yet.

As he served breakfast, Maia had entered and joined them. Unsurprisingly, Kyle was still in bed, trying to "deal with his growth spurt." While Maia and Lori ate their servings, Bilbo had pulled out two mini crumb cakes and poured himself some coffee. The way the hobbit was eating the cakes without hesitating, the sisters could both sense something off about him. Not that there wasn't always something sensitive about him for as long as they known him, but this was more than usual.

They shared a look before looking at Bilbo. "Something wrong?" Maia asked.

"Hm?" Bilbo looked up. Seeing their concern, he forced a chuckle and shook his head. "No, no! There's nothing wrong at all! I was...just thinking..." He certainly was _not going_ to mention to them his recent encounter with a wizard and how he had just practically retreated from the man without even mentioning the Dainsons and their current predictability...not until he fixed it. All the same, even if he did relocate Gandalf, he was worried about what would happen after they did.

"I was just thinking that we head over to the market place today," said Bilbo. It was true; he had been planning a fancy dinner for the evening and was off to pick it up for the four of them. "It's another beautiful day out, and we have been cooped up in this hole all day yesterday. I should suggest that for Kyle, especially. I still cannot understand what is so appealing about that...Gameboy, was it?"

"You're telling me," nodded Maia. Though she had to admit there had been a time when she too had been addicted to games like Kyle, she had then turned sixteen and moved on. "It's always been the same problem. Once Kyle starts playing his DS, or playstation, he caves himself and it's almost impossible to pull him out until he passes out." Maia didn't mention that it has been like that since their dad had left, since it had usually been him who usually had the power to get Kyle to play outside. And when Kyle played outside, the boy always got creative and had a way of involving his sisters in the best of times.

"Yeah, Kyle's no fun anymore," complained Lori. "He said he would teach me how to climb trees, but he never did!"

"You shouldn't be climbing trees anyway," Maia nudged her. "You never know if there are snakes nesting there."

"Snakes?" echoed Bilbo.

"Yeah, we have snakes that hide in trees sometimes," Maia explained. "It usually happens in our state, if nowhere else."

"Maia's terrified of snakes," Lori added, and her big sister shot her a glare. "So are you," Maia pointed out. "You screamed loud enough to wake the cows when spotting one _ten feet away!"_

"Did not!"

"Too!"

"Nuh-huh!"

"Uh-huh!"

"So are we agreed?" interrupted Bilbo, forcing the girls' attention. "I feel that we should go right away. Like ten minutes from now."

"Really? Kyle's still asleep and _we're_ not even dressed!"

"Well, wake him up and just throw something on. It's just the market, after all, and there should be some hobbit children running about around this time." He glanced meaningfully at Lori, who smiled. The little girl had made quite a few little friends these past ten days. "So, what do you say? Should we go wake up your brother?"

* * *

Kyle was feeling very cranky, still feeling the sleep trying to wear away as they walked down the path ten minutes later. Maia and Lori were on either side of him while Bilbo led the way. "I hate you both," he muttered, still thinking back on when they tried to wake him up, and when they failed, they _pounced_ on him in bed.

Maia and Lori giggled. "We know you mean love!" sang Maia, hip bumping him. He bumped her back. They were wearing their Shire dresses while Kyle wore his trousers and blue overcoat, but this time, he wore his black T-shirt underneath. All were carrying baskets for groceries, determined to continue helping the hobbit carry back extra loads for his pantry. He still did not understand why Bilbo has just suddenly forced them to get dress and rush them outside to the market as if they were late for the school bus (not that the Shire, or anywhere here, had a bus).

Bilbo was also dressed in a blue overcoat, but the hobbit was walking stiffly, looking around frantically as they passed by many hobbit holes. Kyle walked up beside him. "What's up?" he asked. "You look a little jumpy. Am I missing something?"

"No, no," assured Bilbo, giving a tight smile, though his eyes kept darting. "I...am just...looking...for _that!"_ He quickly said when pointing over to the booth full of silver fish. They had already entered the market that took place near the Green Dragon's Inn and the bridge across the water. Bilbo started heading over to the fish stand, but not before calling over to the siblings, "Be sure to pick up some lemons and red wine!"

Mr. Baggins had given Kyle some money in a pouch while Maia had the grocery list. As they started heading over to the fruit stand, Lori got caught up with some hobbit children that were playing near the toy stand and went over to join them.

Meanwhile, a hobbit called Chubb wrapped up four packages of fish while Bilbo kept looking around for the wizard. So far, he saw a woman selling bread with a smile, a gentleman smooth out boards of wood, four little girl hobbits (with Lori, he saw to amusement) playing Ring-around-the-Rosie while the boys played chase, and many hobbit parents playing with their babes as the colors of the marketplace moved around them. There was also some cattle, hogs, goats, and enormous pumpkins in view. Everyone was happy today, or relaxed, completely content and unaffected by any worry in the world, other than a few folk growing grumpy and wary at the sight of the Dainsons. It was few, thankfully; everyone just seemed to except them as though they were part of the family.

Bilbo spotted Maia and Kyle at the wine stand, but while they were loading the bottles in crates, a young hobbit lad whom he recognized as his second cousin, Drogo Baggins, met up with the two to greet them with a cheerful smile. Drogo was a good lad, having just come of age recently and had started working in Buckland through his interest in boats and rivers (which was odd, since most hobbits should be afraid of falling in the river). He was also close to the Brandybucks, the most respectable family of the Bucklanders. There was also some gossip spreading about the young lad's real reason for starting his boating business: that he might have his eye on Gorbadoc Brandybuck's young daughter, Primula, who still a child, being twelve years Drogo's junior, but she was old enough to gain some womanly features that appear to be attractive. The rumors were amusing and Drogo was one of the few Baggins' who didn't mind any self-importance or even questioned Bilbo's half-Took side, which made him decidedly more likable.

Drogo was also at the Green Dragon's Inn the night Maia got drunk, Bilbo remembered in all the commotion, being one of the young audience members that begged her to sing more. It was funny that Drogo and Maia looked the same age, but sometimes Bilbo forgot that Maia was eighteen in human years, which seemed extremely young, but he kept reminding himself continuously that it was thirty-three in hobbit years.

 _Keeping track of aging differences is exhausting,_ he thought. When Chubbs finally handed him the four fishes, Bilbo thanked and departed, but then ended up running into Mr. Worrywort, an older hobbit with a straw hat and a huge bulbous now, who greeted him with a knowing smile while pushing his gardening cart. "Hello, Mr. Bilbo! Here!" He picked up one of his freshly grown plants and displayed in Bilbo's face. "Have a feel of me tubers! Nice and firm, they are!" he announced with pride in his voice. "Just come in from West Valley!"

Bilbo nodded politely as the gardener put down his plant. "Very impressive, Mr. Worrywort! Now, uh," he said quickly, "I-I don't suppose you've seen...a wizard lurking around these parts?" He looked around as he asked.

Worrywort put a finger in his chin as he looked at the blue sky thoughtfully. "Tall fellow," he echoed. As he kept thinking, Bilbo felt a shock up his spine when he spotted the tip of what looked like the tip of a wizard's hat behind a laundry line. Feeling his old panic return, he found himself stepping out of sight behind old Worrywort.

"Long, gray beard...pointy hat...Can't say I have!" The gardener started to stay something else, but when he turned, he saw Mr. Baggins ducking in cover as he scrambled to the edge of the bridge. When Bilbo turned around, he saw that the "tip of the hat" was only a triangular folding of piled laundry. Bilbo straightened up and groaned to himself for his paranoia, before walking back to the gardener.

Paranoia wasn't something he could afford now; even when he felt the strong urge to hide from the wizard, if he should show up at all, Bilbo had to restrain himself and focus, even if he were to be questioned about adventures again. All he had to do, he told himself, was simply say, "NO THANK YOU!" and then just hope that Gandalf would be generous enough to offer help for the children.

"Say, speaking of strange folk," Worrywort continued, when Bilbo came back. The old hobbit then crossed his arms and was eyeing across the crowd where Maia, Kyle, and Lori were enjoying themselves. "These Big Folk younglings have been around here for a quite a while now!"

"Hm, I suppose they have..." Bilbo kept glancing around for the wizard without luck.

"How much longer do you suppose they'll be staying around here?"

"What?" Bilbo looked at Worrywort, who looked serious and with some slight suspicion on his face. Apparently he was one of the hobbits who was wary around the race of Men, an irony since that his work in farming shipments usually travel back and forth from nearby Men's farm settlements by mule and cart.

"Since they've been staying in your home for more than a week now, I would've figured you'd have grown tired of their company by now!"

"They're not so bad!" Bilbo said lightly, trying not to seem so defensive. "They are actually quite enjoyable and very decent, once you get to know them. Some people around here seem to agree with that."

"Aye, but not all. No offense to you, Mr. Bilbo, what you're doing is undeniably generous, but it's still questionable to some regarding your reputation. There is still some talk going about them. Big Folk mingling in hobbit society for too long can bring on some complaints at your front door, eventually. If you know what I mean!" He tipped his straw hat and sniffed.

Bilbo sighed in frustration. "I know, I know," he said reluctantly. "I'm working on it, I really am, but I can't just send them on their way! They have nowhere else to go at this time!"

"Well, hate to be the one to rush you," Worrywort said, as he heaved up his wheel cart, "but best you hear from me than others. Tis also strange that they should appear on the Hill in those strange attire, not knowing a clue about our lovely Shire!"

Bilbo started to agree, but then stopped and stared at Worrywort. He wouldn't have known about the kids "appearing" on the Hill, unless...he also remembered them mentioning that the first hobbit they asked before entering the village... "Wait, that was you?" he asked Worrywort, surprised.

Worrywort shrugged and just bowed his head, "Good morning, Mr. Bilbo!" before rolling the cart away, Bilbo standing there with his mouth dropped. He was not sure whether to laugh or to groan. He liked Worrywort well enough, but sometimes that gardener could be a little self-indulgent and absent minded.

* * *

When they had finished up grocery shopping, Maia ended up having to be the only one helping Bilbo carry the loads because Kyle and Lori were invited by their new friends to go play. It turned out the Drogo took an interest in Kyle and invited him to play Conkers, but then Kyle made a better suggestion of teaching the hobbit lads how to play a game called baseball. Lori and her little friends scampered after them to watch, the little children bouncing up and down in the hilly grass as they cheered the game on.

Kyle had ordered the hobbit guys in position, and was pleased to learn that most of them had a mean swing, especially when throwing rocks. They found a few thick sticks to make up for baseball bats and then used the biggest chestnuts Kyle and Lori had ever seen (which turned out to be originally used for Conkers) for baseballs. Drogo was the pitcher and a Brandybuck named Saradas was the receiver, using Kyle's blue coat to make up for a baseball glove.

"Just scoot a little more backward...Perfect!" Kyle said, as Saradas got a position behind him. "Don't want to the bat to hit you by accident! Alright, everyone in position!" he called out to the teams. They had laid out their overcoats for bases. "Drogo, stay centered! Only if the batter misses a swing, that a strike! There's three strikes, and if there's three balls, the batter gets to walk to first base for free! Hitting the balls too far to the side means foul, and two of those means you're out! The three of you guarding the bases need to be prepared to catch the ball...or chestnut, and then tag the base before the batter reaches it. The same for out field and in field. Y'all got the gist, or do I have repeat the whole thing?"

When everything was set, there was soon a mini baseball game happening. There were even some young hobbit girls that joined to watch. Kyle grinned when hearing his baby sister leading the cheers in the background.

"Go, Sparky, go!" Lori cheered. Sparky was another nickname his sisters called him, a nickname to his other nickname: Spitfire.

Throughout the game, Kyle had scored three home-runs and was clearly the fastest runner, being taller and more athletic than the hobbits, but all while doing it barefoot, after a few of the players complained about the boy's footwear giving his extra speed. Everyone enjoyed playing and watching on the grassy hills just outside of the village.

As Drogo went for the bat, Kyle noticed that he winked at one of the young hobbit girls in the crowd, one with curly golden hair and blue eyes, who in returned blushed and smiled at him. She looked around Kyle's age, but it was obvious that she had a crush on Drogo.

"Looks like the blond girl's got a thing for Drogo already," complimented Kyle, who was standing next to Saradas near the third base.

Saradas frowned. "Who? Primula?"

"Yeah, I think so," nodded Kyle, smirking while watching Drogo. "Guy's on a roll!"

Saradas quirked an eyebrow and then huffed. "Well, you can wish him the best of luck," he said stiffly. "That _blond girl_ is my little sister!"

At that moment, Drogo had hit a home-run, everyone started cheering, and Kyle was standing with a frozen smirk on his face. "Awkward!" he muttered between his teeth.

He had a feeling that he just started something between the two friends that day.

* * *

After a whole fun-filled day of outdoor baseball and freeze tag, Kyle and Lori were eventually relocated by Maia and Bilbo, who spent another hour enjoying the fun until the sun was setting and everyone went back into their hobbit holes, or spent their nighttime enjoyment at the _Green Dragon's Inn,_ where their laughter and chattering could be heard across the water.

By the time it was dark outside, the only lights in the darkness coming from indoor windows and the twinkling stars above, the old nightwatchman passed by Bag End with a huge wine flask in hand. Meanwhile, Bilbo was pan frying four gourmet fish, the scales sizzling on the pan. He was in his nightgown, covered by his favorite checkered robe. On the other side of the house, Maia was taking a bath in his mother's tub, taking Lori with her to share, while Kyle borrowed the guest room's bathroom tub. They all had a surprisingly active day, from the grocery shopping to the baseball game (Bilbo had a feeling the children from all around are going to start playing this new game nonstop).

Despite his failure in finding the wizard, Bilbo couldn't help but feel a little relieved. Seeing the Dainson siblings off seemed like a sad thought now that he wanted to forget about for tonight. Now he just wanted a relaxing night, when it was peaceful and quiet, and eat his freshly bought fish with chopped fruit, rice, biscuits, honey, tea, and wine. Water and milk for the children.

Once he laid out the plates of fish on the kitchen table, he called out, "Alright, lad and lasses, supper is on the table!" He felt a little ridiculous, his tone matching the tone of a mother toward her children, but his words seemed to reach them as the three came into the kitchen, one by one. All with wet hair and in their pajamas. Lori scrambled in the lead, hearing her pink PJs and her long brunette hair all wet from the bath, as she hopped in her seat. Kyle was wearing the T-shirt he wore today and his blue PJ pants, his black hair soaked and sticking out like a ruffled mop. Maia was wearing gray sweatpants that labeled PINK on the side and a purple tank top (Bilbo reluctantly agreed to Maia's condition of wearing tank tops only inside the house; after all, there was nobody else there to see), her long golden-brown hair wet and ruffled to make it wavier. They all looked fresh, clean, and hungry.

When they sat down, Bilbo tucking a napkin in, Lori was a scared look on her face when she stared down at her fish. "It's dead," she whimpered.

"I think it's growling at us," teased Kyle, and Lori squeaked and pushed away her fish while Maia swatted at her brother, which he dodged while laughing.

Bilbo realized with sudden guilt that raw fish was probably not the best serving for a little child. Thinking fast, he passed her the fruit and biscuits, which she took gratefully. Then as the hobbit picked up a slice of lemon and started squeezing it over his fish for flavor, the doorbell rang and they froze. Bilbo's eyes flicked up with a confused frown.

"Were we expecting somebody?" asked Maia, mirroring his confusion.

 _Could it be Gandalf?_ Bilbo thought suddenly with a twinge of both fear and hope. At this possibility, he put down his napkin and stood up. "Wait here," he told them, before rushing over to the front door. Lori smiled suddenly and hopped up to follow Bilbo, always liking it when answering the door.

When Bilbo opened the door, ready to expect Gandalf, he was surprised to find the person standing on his mat was a dwarf. A large, muscular dwarf with a scruffy dark beard, a bald head lined with tattoos, scarred ears pierced with silver earrings, and bushy eyebrows that shaped the steely scowl in his features.

"Dwalin," said the dwarf in a low, thickly accented greeting. He bowed slightly, but his hard-edged eyes never moved. "At your service."

A small sound escaped Bilbo when blinking back to reality, and then hastily tied his robe together to hide his nightgown. "Bilbo Baggins," he forced out with a final tie of the robe, while straightening up politely, "at yours." Lori had caught up to Bilbo and was watching the whole scene-the dwarf, in particular-with her eyes and mouth as wide as the moon.

The dwarf didn't wait to be invited when he stepped inside past Bilbo, who practically squeaked, "Do we-do we know each other?"

The dwarf named Dwalin gave him a strange look. "No," he said, as one who answered a stupid question. Then he noticed Lori, who was still staring up at him. "Ah," he grunted, as he loomed above her. "Didn't realize you had a bairn."

"W-what?" Bilbo looked at Lori and then at the dwarf with wide eyes, the assumption quickly settling in. "No-No! She's not—I mean, she's not even a—" He kept stammering.

 _He's huge!_ That was only thought in the little girl's mind. Her head was literally at the level of his leather belt and muscular arms, where she noticed were patterned with strange-looking tattoos along the fingers, buried beneath lethal iron knuckle-dusters strapped to his wrists. _His hands were huge!_ When she glanced up, his shoulders were collared with animal fur and, based on the strapped harnesses across his chest, there were two axe handles sheathed crisscrossed at his back. _He's huge everywhere!_

Lori hugged her teddy bear tighter, feeling very afraid as the big dwarf observed her.

It was until Maia and Kyle entered the scene that Bilbo finally pointed out, "She's with them! They're my guests!"

Maia was staring at the dwarf, speechless, while Kyle had managed to mouth in his own shock, "What in the world...?"

Dwalin seemed to figure it all out with one sweeping glance on the three strangely dressed humans in the hobbit hole and then bowed at all three of them at once. "Dwalin, at your service."

"Uh..." Maia's mouth felt dry, feeling slightly afraid of this scary-looking dwarf, but she managed to nod her head in reply, "M-Maia Dainson...at yours," she added in whisper. Kyle just gave a little wave and said, "Kyle," while the youngest sibling squeaked, "Lori!"

"Pleasure," Dwalin replied with a slight twitch of his lips. Then he unclipped his cloak. "Which way, laddie?" His tone seemed to direct back at Bilbo, while Maia quickly stepped out of the way to let the dwarf pass her. "Is it down here?"

"I-I-Is what down where?" echoed Bilbo, baffled.

"Supper!" Dwalin tossed the cloak at Kyle, who almost stumbled back from the force. "He said there'd be food, and lots of it!"

"H-H-He said?" Bilbo frowned, looking puzzled. _"Who said_?"

The answer never came, but apparently as the four of them followed the dwarf back into the kitchen, Maia leaned over and whispered to Bilbo in the hallway, "How do you know this guy?"

"I have never seen this _dwarf_ in my life!" the hobbit hissed back, almost frantically as he watched Dwalin sit down and started digging into their food. "In fact, I have never even _met_ a dwarf at all in my life!"

"Okay, um," Maia bit her lip nervously, watching at Kyle and Lori sat the table, staring at the dwarf with both awe and fascination as he started gobbling into Bilbo's fish. "You're-you're okay with this? Letting a stranger in, eating _our_ food, who by the way might want to hurt us?" Her last words came out breathless, thinking of the axes and dusters the dwarf wore. He may be shorter than her by a couple inches, but his presence alone made _her_ the smaller person.

"Look, I suggest we just play along," whispered Bilbo. "He's still a guest, and I would very much not like to upset him, _especially_ when he's armed! Come on!" He took her arm and lead her into the kitchen, though neither one would sit at the table, and instead sat on two spare chairs instead. Maia wrapped her arms around herself, suddenly feeling exposed in her PJs, but made no move to leave.

Dwalin was already finishing the last fish that Lori eagerly pushed towards him. They all blanched when he munched off the entire fish head with a loud crunch. Lori's jaw dropped, but Kyle was the only one who smiled at that, clearly thinking it was cool.

He nodded, pleased. "Very good, this! Any more?"

Bilbo perked up from his own thoughts. "What? Oh, yes!" He quickly picked up the nearby basket full of freshly baked biscuits. Maia watched with a smirk as he quickly snagged the top biscuit, before placing the basket out on the table. "Help yourself!" And Dwalin did just that by scooping a biscuit in his mouth as though he were dying of starvation.

"Dude!" exclaimed Kyle, his gray eyes wide. "You just ate, like, _four_ whole fishes in five minute and you're _still_ hungry?"

"Aye!" Dwalin grunted, his mouth full of biscuit. "Don't underestimate a Dwarf's appetite, laddie! Man'll be rolling over before one of my own are halfway finished!" He shoved in another biscuit with loud chewing that made Maia wince in disgust.

Bilbo shifted in discomfort at that fact. "Mm...it's just that, um...I wasn't expecting company," he explained honestly. He was about to continue when the door bell rang again, causing them all to look up toward the front door in surprise.

Dwalin eyed at Bilbo, expectantly. "That'll be the door," he practically growled.

Shaken to action, Bilbo rushed back to the door, Maia immediately in tow, seeing this as an excuse to gladly leave the kitchen. Kyle didn't seem too scared of that viking-of-a-dwarf, she convinced herself. Leave it to him to distract the guest while...Bilbo opened the door and she drew a soft some breath when peeking over his head.

There was _another_ dwarf on the doorstep, but this one was much shorter, stouter, and older, wearing a fancy crimson long coat over designed clothing, leather gloves on, boots curled at the toe, and a black-and-red woven belt, where she could see the handle of a sword hidden there. He had a long, thick, snowy-white beard that curled at his chest.

The elder dwarf smiled at Bilbo. "Balin," he greeted cheerfully, and bowed low, "at your service!"

 _Balin? Seriously,_ she thought incredulously, thinking about how well it rhymed with the other guest's name. _Are they related?_

"Good evening," Bilbo managed, his tone not sharing the same cheer but was at least polite.

"Yes, yes it is," agreed Balin, glancing up at the night sky before stepping inside. "Though I think it might rain later. Am I late?" Then he noticed Maia and his smile grew wider. "Oh, pardon me, my lady! Balin, at your service!" He bowed again, though he did eye at her night clothes and wet hair, which made Maia blush fiercely.

"Maia Dainson," she greeted back stiffly, wrapping her arms around herself. "Nice to meet you, sir!"

"Late for what?" Bilbo stepped in, eying at Balin suspiciously, but the older dwarf had looked into the other room nearby and gave out a hearty exclamation, "Oh! Ha, ha!" Maia turned around to see Dwalin shaking the glass jar of cookies from the mantlepiece, Kyle standing behind him, looking unsure of what to do. When Dwalin glanced over, Balin started marching over with a wide, knowing grin. "Evening, brother!"

 _Brother! Ha! That makes a ton of sense!_ Maia thought.

Dwalin chuckled, his hard face lightening up as he put down the jar. "By my beard! You're shorter and wider than last we met!" he teased.

"Wider, not shorter!" corrected Balin, standing up close to his taller but younger brother. "Sharp enough for both of us!" He winked, and both laughed together. Then they clasped each other's shoulders, and Maia was wondering if they were going to hug-

CLUNK! The sound of the brothers' butting heads made everyone else in the room flinch, Kyle's giving a soft " _Ah"_ at the sight. Hissing through her teeth, Maia's hand had unconsciously hovered over her own head as how painful that would seem, while also seeing Kyle trying to stifle his obvious amazement at the dwarves' hard skulls.

Bilbo was the first to break out of the spell. "Ah, excuse me?" he called over, waving at the laughing dwarves. "Sorry! Hate to interrupt, but the thing is..." He pointed at them and then his front door. "...I'm not entirely sure you're in the right house," he tried to explain, but after the brothers had a silent exchange, they both started walking toward the kitchen before Bilbo would finish.

In the kitchen, Lori was still seated there, watching the scene in the sitting room with a gaping mouth, but when Balin appeared from behind Dwalin, Lori gasped loudly. Then she shrieked happily, startling everyone in the room when she charged forward and slammed into a shocked Balin, trying to wrap her little arms unsuccessfully around his torso. "SANTA CLAUS!" she sang.

"Oh, good Lord!" Kyle pinched his face. "Cut it out, Lori!"

"It's alright, lad," assured Balin, recovering from his surprise with a breathless laugh as the child kept hugging him. "I don't know who this Santa Claus is, lassie, but my name is Balin, son of Fundin. At your service!"

"Oh," Lori looked up in slight embarrassment, but it was quickly replaced with a cheerful smile. "I'm Lori!" She was definitely less scared of Balin than of Dwalin.

"A pleasure, little one," returned Balin, patting her on the head. "You wouldn't happen to have some food around here, would you?"

"Uh-huh!" Lori nodded and then took his hand, pulling him in tow. "This way!" She led Balin, followed by Dwalin, to the pantry, the heart—or rather, the _stomach—_ of Bag End.

Maia excused herself to go get her jacket ("Watch Lori," she told Kyle as she went), while Kyle and Bilbo went to the pantry's entrance to see the two dwarves pouring ale from the barrel while chatting among themselves.

Meanwhile, Bilbo was trying to explain the complicated situation, "I-It's not that I don't like visitors...I like visitors as much as the next _hobbit_ -" He emphasized the word in meaning, "-but I do like to know them before they come visiting," he said tightly. "The thing is-"

Dwalin picked up the blue cheese and sniffed it. "What's this?"

"I don't know," said Balin. "I think it's cheese. It's gone blue."

"It's riddled with mold," grumbled Dwalin in disgust.

"It's blue cheese," Kyle jumped in. "It's supposed to be like that. It's still edible."

Dwalin wrinkled his nose and then just tossed it over his shoulder, where it landed on the floor with a splat at the boy's feet.

"Or not," muttered Kyle, staring down at the mess.

"The thing is," Bilbo said a little more loudly, "I—" He nodded toward Kyle and Lori, " _We_ don't know either of you. Not in the slightest. I don't mean to be blunt," he added, holding up his hands, "but I had to speak my mind. I am sorry."

The dwarves stopped what they were doing and turned toward Bilbo at once. Kyle held his breath, Lori had stilled nervously, but Bilbo had dropped his hands and straightened up haughtily, clearing his throat. He seemed satisfied to finally get their attention, and their understanding, but prepared himself for an argument or an apology.

False. "Apology accepted," Balin nodded with a polite smile, one that only made Bilbo draw up slightly with indignation, but the brothers didn't seem to notice as they turned back to the ale.

Pressing his lips together to keep from smirking at the miscommunication, Kyle patted the befuddled hobbit sympathetically on the back. "S'alright, man," was all he could say.

Bilbo sighed helplessly when he looked up at Kyle, and was about to speak when interrupted by yet another ring of the door bell, causing both hobbit and human to turn slowly towards its sound.

"What now?" whimpered Bilbo, tossing his hands into the air before stomping back to the front door with a startled Kyle in tow. They both already knew what to expect, but Bilbo nonetheless gave out _another_ whimper when he opened the door to two more dwarves.

Kyle blinked. These two were much younger. One was blond with deep blue eyes and the other was dark with chocolate brown eyes. It was hard to tell how old the blond was with the beard and braided mustache, but since the dark one only had a stubble on the more delicate features of the two, he had to be roughly Maia's age. Maybe a year or two older.

"Fili," the blond greeted.

"And Kili," the dark added. Then they bowed together. "At your service," they said in unison, which looked both comical and awesome, making Kyle believe that these two were fraternal twins, despite how different they looked from each other. When they straightened up, their smiles were bright and cheeky.

"You must be Mister Boggins," the brunette named Kili said with a wide grin, and then Kyle couldn't hold back a snort of laughter at the dwarf's mispronunciation.

"Nope! Sorry!" Bilbo didn't even bother to be polite. "You've come to the wrong house," he said and hastily attempted to slam the door.

The dark one caught the door with his arm and boot before shoving it back with ease as he looked at Bilbo in surprise, "What? Has it been cancelled?"

"No one told _us_ ," the blond added with a confused frown.

Bilbo squinted and stammered, trying and failing to put the puzzle pieces together. "No, nothing's been cancelled—"

"Well, that's relief," said Kili, his smile instantly returning before assertively pushing a startled Bilbo aside while entering, his brother following with an air of importance. At least, Kyle assumed it was his brother, names matching if not their appearances.

Kili was the first to notice the human boy standing in the background, dark eyes widening in surprise before they observed his blue PJ pants and black Punisher T-shirt. Then the young dwarf stepped closer, only an inch shorter compared to Kyle, but somehow like the older dwarves, he made Kyle feel like the shorter figure. "Hullo," he greeted with a nod. "I'm Kili. This is my brother, Fili."

"At your service," Fili said with a formal bow and a soft smile.

"Yeah, I know," said Kyle with a smirk, trying not to show how awkward he felt compared to these cool-looking and somewhat majestic dwarves. Instead of bowing, he held out a hand to shake. "Kyle Dainson."

Kili looked at the hand, but didn't shake. Instead, he tilted his head and pointed out directly, "You're not a halfling!"

Kyle blinked, not sure whether it was a spoken thought or an accusation. "Yeah...well...neither are you!" he shot back, trying to keep the annoyance out of his tone. If this dwarf was going to be a racist and a hypocrite like Lobelia Sackville-Baggins...

But the black-haired dwarf only smirked mischievously and then went to look around before Kyle realized with a start that he was being teased. He also noticed the bow and arrows holstered at the back when he turned.

Fili had unstrapped the twin swords strapped to his back and turned to Bilbo. "Careful with these," he warned, dumping them heavily in the hobbit's arms. "I just had them sharpened."

While Kyle watched with growing disbelief as Fili started pulling out more weapons like two mini throwing axes, a war hammer, and wickedly sharp knives to add to the pile-whether from the layers of his fur-collared, leather coat, his belt, his boots, and his back ( _Dude's a living porcupine!_ Kyle thought)-Kili wandered in circles while observing the home with a thoughtful, but pleased expression. "It's nice, this place!" he complimented, nodding appreciatively at the beautifully rounded architecture. "Did you do it yourself?" he asked Bilbo, who was continuously being handed weapons by Fili.

"No, no," grunted Bilbo under the weight of holstered blades. "It's been in the family for years...That's my mother's glory box," he called over sternly as Kili started scraping his muddy boots against a fancy-looking chest. "Can you _please_ not do that?"

"So where did you guys come from?" Kyle asked, as soon as Fili placed down his final knife with satisfaction.

"Ered Luin," he responded. "From the Blue Mountains. There's a Dwarf colony settled there."

"Took a few days to get from there to here," said Kili, turning to the boy. Then he paused. "A little more than a week, really. It would have taken much longer if we had traveled by foot."

"Fili! Kili!" Dwalin boomed, making Kyle jump, as he strolled into the room and threw his large arm over Kili's shoulders. "Come on over and give us hand!"

"Mr. Dwalin!" Kili laughed, not the least bit afraid as he was pulled into the kitchen by the elder dwarf. Fili smiled briefly as Kyle with a twinkle in his blue eyes before he followed them into the dining room.

"Hey, need help with that?" Kyle said as he went over to Bilbo to collect a few knives. They looked so awesome and badass that he wanted an excuse to pick them up. He wondered if his dad-Kyle quickly dismissed the thought.

"Thank you, Kyle!" gasped Bilbo, as the boy carefully lightened the burden.

Meanwhile, in the other room, Lori was with Balin when she saw the two new, smiling dwarves enter and then happily scampered over to greet them with a cheeky smile. "Hi, I'm Lori!" she squeaked happily. She held up her bear. "This is Teddy!"

Kili laughed and then ruffled her hair. "Hello, Lori," he said warmly. "I'm Kili." He waited for Fili to introduce himself, but when he turned, his brother was staring wide-eyed at the child in shock. "Fili?"

"Sorry, I'm sorry," Fili said, shaking his head with a startled laugh. Kili frowned questionably. "It's just that, for a moment, I thought she was you, Kili, when _you_ were a small child! You both have the same hair and eyes; it's hilarious! You two could be twins!"

"But I'm a girl!" protested Lori, pouting at him in a way that made Fili laugh again.

"Yeah, Fili, she's a girl," Kili echoed, faking his wounded pride as he shoved playfully at his brother. "Best not insult the little lass, or else you'd be saying _I_ looked like a girl!"

Fili shrugged, still shaking with laughter. "Not my fault you lacked a beard back then! Even now, I'd have to squint."

"Oh, shut up!" Kili protested, and Lori giggled.

"Alright, that's enough, lads," Balin called over, and the brothers and Dwalin went to surround to table as if to adjust it. At that moment, Bilbo and Kyle appeared with the weapons in their arms. "Shove this in the hallway. Otherwise we'll never get everyone in."

 _"Everyone?"_ Bilbo squeaked in the background, and Kyle exclaimed, "How many more are there?"

"There's _more?"_ Lori piped up, looking hopeful.

Answering her question on cue, the doorbell rang _again._

"Oh, no!" Bilbo shook his head, as he turned toward the door. He looked both panicked and angry now as he started toward back toward the door. "No. No! THERE'S NOBODY HOME!" he hollered, while thrusting the weapons ceremoniously on the floor in the corner. He hastily untangled the sword strap around his shoulder like it was an insect. "GO AWAY AND BOTHER SOMEBODY ELSE! THERE FAR TOO MANY DWARVES IN MY DINING ROOM AS IT IS!" He gestured a thumb over his shoulder as he started marching angrily back to the front door.

Lori went up to Kyle, who stared after him. "Is Bilbo mad?" she asked, but he shook his head, not knowing what to say. _How many dwarves were there?_ With that, he tossed the knives in the pile and hastily followed the hobbit.

"IF THIS IS SOME CLOT-HEAD'S IDEA OF JOKE..." Bilbo laughed humorlessly, as he reached for the doorknob and Kyle started towards him, "...I can only say, IT IS IN VERY POOR TASTE!"

The moment he yanked the door open, however, Kyle was standing right in front of the door when he was knocked heavily over with a yell by _seven_ more dwarves that ended up falling over in a heap. He felt the breath knocked out him as they landed on top of him in a pile, feeling their heavy bodies struggling with muffled grunting and yelping, "Ow!", "Get off!", and "Hands off, you big lump!" He felt elbows and knees jabbing his legs and ribs, when finally the front dwarf on top of him managed to sit up a little, though still trapped under the tangled pileup.

The dwarf looked down at him, forcing a cheerful smile. He had a long black goatee, two braids from his hair, and a large, floppy hat. "Evening, lad!" he exclaimed, despite the strain of trying to sit up. "Bofur...at your service...when I'm able to, anyway!" He grunted under the weight.

Kyle grimaced and just flicked his hand with a two-fingered wave. "Kyle," he choked. "Ditto! Ow!"

As he tried to at least prop himself on his elbows while the dwarves struggled in their pile on top of him, he noticed that Bilbo was staring wide-eyed at them, and then when he looked up toward the doorway, his surprise faded into a resigned sigh. Kyle followed Bilbo's gaze and felt his breath catch.

 _No way!_ The boy stared as a tall man dressed in gray clothing and bearing a wooden staff ducked under the doorway, glancing around briefly with twinkling gray eyes before looking up with a clever smile. He had a long gray beard and a pointy hat.

 _There's no way he's a wizard!_ Yet Kyle could not stop staring at the old man. There was something about his presence had sent a powerful tingling along his skin, giving shivers up his spine and a boost of small adrenaline that can't be explained. Was this...magic?

Bilbo sighed at the wizard with an accusing look. He appeared to _know_ the wizard, Kyle noticed with shock.

"Gandalf."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just so you know, about Sandras Brandybuck, I'm actually not sure whether this character is a boy or a girl, so I just made a decision here because he was the only character in the family tree that was the same age as Drogo, and since Drogo gets close to the Brandybucks, it should make sense that they're friends (or something). I wanted to dwell on the background of Frodo's parents falling in love, and played with the fact that Kyle helped a little by setting up the baseball game for hobbits.


	7. Blunt the Knives

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here are the dwarves, so that means more chaos and fun. And did I say seven? I meant eight dwarves crashed on top of Kyle! Heh heh!

Maia had been standing in her bedroom with her sweatshirt still gripped in her hands, listening tensely to the growing commotion of multiplied voices and Bilbo's hysterical demands. She stared at the small fireplace that had been lit earlier to heat up the room while she and Lori bathed. Its fluttering flames matched her heartbeat.

_C'mon, Maia, girl! You gotta pull it together!_ There had only been two dwarves in the house when she had went to go get her jacket, but as soon as she picked it up, she had heard the doorbell again, more voices, and then the doorbell again, before followed another uproar of male voices, mixed with what sounded like Kyle yelping.

Maia sighed and then slid her arms into the sleeves of her warm hooded jacket. She had been gone long enough. She had to see if Kyle and Lori were still breathing and how Bilbo was handling who knows _how many_ dwarves were now invading Bag End. She was not going to let a crowd of little bearded men freak her out any more than when she and her siblings crashed into this world. _How bad can it be?_

By the time, she stepped out of the room and into the hallway, ruffling her long hair to make it drier, she was surprised to see...three, four, five, six, seven, eightmore dwarves struggling to stand up from the front door's pathway, grumbling among themselves. The one with a floppy hat had held out a hand to Kyle, who had been laying on his back on the floor, and her kid brother gratefully took it to stand up with a grunt.

Ducking through the doorway was a tall old man with long gray beard and pointy hat, holding a long wooden staff. He over six feet tall in gray dressings, woolen fingerless gloves, and his eyes under his bushy eyebrows twinkled with amusement.

"What?" she gasped. There was _no way_ that was a wizard!

"Maia!" Bilbo appeared and grabbed her arm, pulling her hastily back where she came. "Where were you? Never mind! There's too many-I-I-I need to change! Could you-I mean, do you mind-" He pointed a shaky finger as the dispersing dwarves and wizard.

"Okay, sure, but-wait-" Maia started when Bilbo scurried down the hall to his bedroom, leaving her there with no idea what to do. Then she looked back to see all eight dwarves bowing to Kyle, saying, "At your service!"

"Kyle!" Maia called out, stepping forward to join her brother.

Noticing the young lady in the room, the dwarves all quickly gathered in a group around her, bowing low all at once with names, "Bofur!," "Bomber!," "Oin!," "Gloin!," "Dori!," "Nori!", "Ori!," and a slowing grunting noise that sounded out " _Bi-furrrr"_ that she instantly looked over and widened her eyes in horror at the _axe_ protruding in the messy black-bearded dwarf's head. Before she could process what each name belonged to, they all mumbled, "Milady!"

"Oh, uh, nice to meet y'all!" she said, forcing a smile. "I'm Maia, and this is my brother, Kyle!"

"Oh, aye, Kyle Ditto," grinned Floppy Hat, nodded. "The one who cushioned our landing! Much obliged!" Kyle opened his mouth, and the dwarves started laughing loudly at his expression and Maia covered a snigger. Someone in the other room shouted "Oi! Over here! Give us a hand!" and the dwarves heartily moved to meet the others, which by the sound of things were moving heavy furniture.

The wizard then stepped forward. "Ah, this is quite unexpected," he regarded with a smile, looming above them.

"Which part?" Maia said in return. "The dwarves or a guy dressed up like a wizard?"

The old man laughed, even though she wasn't joking. "I can assure that I dress what I seem, because what I seem is what I am!" he said boldly, and then bowed his head formally at the two. "My name is Gandalf. Gandalf the Grey. And if I heard Bofur correctly, you are Maia and Kyle Ditto?"

"Dainson, actually," Maia smiled, still trying to comprehend the wizard's words. She still couldn't believe he was an actual wizard, but at the same time, there was tingling air about him that could have been her imagination, but was too hard to ignore.

"I had no idea Bilbo Baggins had young ones from the race of Men in Bag End," said Gandalf. He chuckled to himself. "Perhaps he has not changed entirely, after all."

"How do you know Bilbo?" asked Kyle.

"Oh, I have known young Master Baggins since he was but a small child that could fit right into my hat," he answered. "Though I am sad to say that he has not recalled me until I found him smoking this morning at his doorstep."

"Wait, he met you this morning?" said Maia in surprise.

"He never mentioned you," said Kyle, frowning. Although, both he and Maia did notice that Bilbo had been jumpier than usual for most of the day. He had been frantically looking around when they outside, stiff-backed, as though slightly paranoid about something. Was he trying to look out for the wizard?

Gandalf was about to speak when he suddenly noticed Maia's sweatpants and Kyle's Punisher skull T-shirt. "I say, I cannot help but notice the clothing you two bear," he said. "Forgive me, but it's very foreign to my knowledge. Are you from around these parts?"

Both Maia and Kyle were about to answer when Gandalf noticed the loud commotion in the other room of the gathering dwarves. "Oh, would you hold that thought? If there's to be a supper for many, I should go lend a hand." And just like that, he hung his hat on the peg and laid down his staff before marching around the corner.

"Maia!" Kyle grabbed her arm, his face lightening up with sudden excitement. "M, that's it! If he really is a wizard...if he can really do magic-"

"-then he might be able to send us back home!" finished Maia, reading his mind with the same hope that he felt. She laughed and practically bounced on her heels. "We're finally on to something, Ky! We could go home! At least, I hope so..."

"Of course, he can, he's a wizard!" scoffed Kyle, nudging her. "He would have to at least know how we got here in the first place!"

Along with the mixed chattering of dwarves, they could hear clinking dishes. "One thing at a time?" Maia said. Kyle nodded in agreement, and then the siblings went and found that all the dwarves were pillaging Bilbo's entire pantry. They were rapidly picking away bowled of fruits, nuts, apples, tomatoes, plates of ham, lamb, chicken, bread, honey, cheese, peppers, turnips, potatoes, garlic, more biscuits, cookies...it just kept going.

"Oh, no!" groaned Maia, feeling this was getting out of control. Even worse, Bilbo had just came around the corner, sliding on his overall strap when he spotted the fat one called Bombur carrying a plate. "Excuse me, that's my chicken. Um-If-if you don't-That's my wine!" Bilbo exclaimed to other passing dwarf with his wine bottle and then grabbed his shoulder. _"Excuse me!"_

When the dwarf turned around, it was the one with wild black and silver hair, wild dark eyes, and the axe stuck in his head. Bilbo immediately withdrew his hand, when the dwarf called Bifur started growling in gibberish, while pointing at the ax in his head in reference. Bilbo looked baffled, but the elderly dwarf with the pole and ear trumpet stepped in from behind.

"He's got an injury," the elder mentioned.

Bilbo gave him a look. "Oh, you mean the axe in his head?" he said skeptically.

The elder raised the trumpet to his ear and leaned forward. " _Dead?_ No, only between his ears," he said, clearly mishearing the word. He then went to rejoin the work. "His legs work fine."

Bilbo blinked and then immediately noticed that the dwarves kept carrying food out of his pantry. "Put that back!" he kept repeating to each one, but was unheeded. Maia decided to jump in by helping slow down the dwarves, not sure how to say it politely, but then she saw Lori carry the plates.

"Lori, what are you doing?"

"Helping," she said. "Balin says we're gonna have a feast since there's gonna be lots of dwarves here! It'll be fun! Like Snow White!"

"It's _Bilbo's_ food, L! You're supposed to be stopping them, not helping!"

"But I don't wanna!" Lori whined, and then retreated into the kitchen before Maia could stop her. She almost ran into Bomber, who was carrying three whole cheese blocks.

"It's a tad excessive, isn't it?" Bilbo said uneasily, as he watched Bombur carry the cheese. "Have you got a cheese knife?"

"Cheese knife?" Bofur piped up, passing by. "He eats it by the block!"

"Ugh!" groaned Bilbo, and then turned to Maia with a helpless look, before crying out about something to do with "Grandpa Mungo's chair" being "an antique, not for sitting on." Maia then looked over his head to see two dwarves trying to find a way to hull the piled barrels of ale and then it landed heavily on the marble floor, the liquid inside sloshing.

"Hey, excuse me!" Maia shouted. It was high time she stopped feeling useless, so she marched over to stop them. "Excuse me! Step away from the barrel!"

The two dwarves looked up in surprise and Maia was instantly struck by their youthful appearances. She was absolutely sure she hasn't met these dwarves yet; otherwise she would have remembered them. The one standing up had long unruly dark hair, brown eyes, and a stubble while wearing a long dark, leather overcoat and fingerless gloves. The other who was kneeling down, prepared to lift the barrel, had long wavy blond hair and a small beard with a braided mustache, wore fur collared leather coat, and had deep blue eyes that seemed to look directly at _her._

Not only did they look youthful, but surprisingly and drop-dead attractive.

It only took Maia a moment to take in their appearances and then put her hands on her hips (like the way her mom always did when catching her in an act), before saying firmly with narrowed eyes, "If y'all want ale, go get a cup from the pantry! Dining room's a monster full of food already!"

The dark haired one smiled, not the least bit shaken by her scolding tone. "That's the whole idea," he said cheerfully, "but you can't wash it all down without a barrel full of spicy ale. It's ale or nothing, lass! I'm Kili, by the way," he added, in a hands-down charming way.

"I don't believe we have met," added the blond, who slowly stood up. His head was at the level of her shoulders, but his bright blue eyes never left her gray-blue when he came closer.

Maia felt her feet root to the spot, her heart pacing faster than before. She gulped. "Well...I was too busy running back and forth with a dozen dwarves barging into the house and messing with my friend's pantry like a pack of hungry bears," she forced her firm tone back, pretending he didn't sway her. "You two aren't helping any."

The blond observed her clothing, her figure, making her feel self-conscious and _thankful_ that she had fetched her jacket. "Do you live here?" he asked.

"I _stay_ here," confirmed Maia, trying not to squirm under his gaze. "Think it'd be kind of funny that humans lived in a hobbit hole their whole lives, right?"

"R-Right, of course," he quickly said, and she felt half-pleased and half-bad for making him stammer. He seemed shy now, but didn't lose his formal composure when he bowed slightly, still not leaving her gaze, and held out a gloved hand, which looked triple the size of her own little hand. Dwarf hands.

Resigned, Maia took it, expecting him to shake it, but what he did next surprised her. Instead, he brought it to his lips and kissed it, his beard tickling her skin. The moment they made contact, Maia felt a strong thrill shoot through her body and her mind just shut off. It was _everything_ she could do to fight the urge to giggle. _Nobody_ had ever kissed her hand like that before, not even her ex-boyfriend, Bryce.

She had seen her father kiss her mother's hands once or twice in the past, and the other way around, even between her grandparents on some private moments, but never for her. It was amazing how something as simple and small as a kiss on the hand can be overpowering. Overwhelming. Exhilarating. She had been kissed a lot by her boyfriend before, on the lips (and elsewhere), before they broke up, but never like this. Especially by a dwarf of all people in a hobbit hole of all places, whom she did not know at all. Not even his name.

When time had slowed those past five-seconds, he finally lifted his head and smiled ever-so charmingly, eyes twinkling just as a bonus. "Fili, at your service, milady!" He didn't let go of her hand, which looked tiny in his. The bare tips of his fingers brushed her wrist.

"M-Maia," she breathed, and then quickly cleared her throat to find her voice, aware that he was making _her_ stammer now. "Maia Dainson."

"Then you must be related to Kyle and Lori Dainson. You and the lad have the same eyes."

"Y-Yeah, they're my kid brother and sister."

A heavy, sloshing clunk sounded behind Fili. "Mind giving me a hand, brother?" Kili said, sounding amused. "It's heavier than it looks."

Fili smiled apologetically, tightening his hold on her hand a moment longer before releasing it and turning to his brother, who had the barrel sideways at his feet.

Still feeling the ghost of his touch on her hand, Maia blinked back to reality and gaped when the young dwarves lifted the barrel together. "Hey, wait-wait a minute!" she exclaimed, as they hastily carried their cargo away. "That's not fair!" They only smirked, Kili winking at her as they retreated.

_What the hell just happened?_ Did that dwarf just make a move on her to distract her from the barrel? Maia felt her face heat up in anger and embarrassment, self-consciously tucking a hair strand behind her ear. _Bad move, blonde,_ she thought, huffing. _Not falling for that again!_

Gandalf's head brushed the chandelier when he came from the kitchen. Once he hastily steadied it, Fili and Kili passed by him with the barrel. "Ah, Fili, Kili," he greeted, and they smiled in returned. Then the wizard started counting all the dwarves passing around him, "Oin, Gloin! Dwalin, Balin! Bifur, Bofur, Bombur! Dori, Nori...ah, Ori!" he exclaimed as another young looking dwarf with short hair and a short beard wrestled with Bilbo over a basket full of tomatoes. Bilbo won, of course, and gave Ori a glare before walking away.

The axe-headed dwarf went up to Gandalf, grunting some foreign language to him while thumping his arm. Kyle had stopped trying to stall the dwarves and frowned at him weirdly, before exchanging glances with Maia.

"Yes, you're quite right, Bifur," agreed Gandalf, as the dwarf walked away. "Now, we appear to be one dwarf short," the wizard murmured to himself.

"He is late, is all," Dwalin spoke up, who was leaning casually against the wall with a pint of ale. "He traveled north to a meeting with our kin. He will come."

"There's _more_ coming?" Kyle said in disbelief. "No offense, but we're kinda loaded."

"No, no, just the one," assured Gandalf, touching Kyle's shoulder, "and once he arrives, everything will be explained."

"Mr. Gandalf!" A muscular, gray-haired dwarf with hair and beard pulled into tight braids came up to the wizard. In his hand was a tiny glass of wine. "A little glass of red wine as requested. It's got a fruity bouque."

"Ah," Gandalf smiled and took the glass, raising it in salute, "Cheers!" He took one gulp and it was gone, but he seemed content with its fruity taste.

* * *

Lori was having the time of her life.

This was all a totally unexpected evening. What should have been a quiet dinner with just four had turned into a party of twelve-no, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, seventeen people, she counted proudly. Twelve were dwarves, three were her siblings and herself, one was a hobbit, and one was a wizard. A wizard!

Of all the things she had met so far: hobbits, and now dwarves, she meets a real, live wizard! Like Merlin in _King Arthur_ and _The Sword in the Stone_. Like Dumbledore in _Harry Potter._ Like the wizards in Kyle's fantasy video games and Daddy's bedtime stories ( _Daddy's version of wizard were also called Itari, right?_ She never really knew what that meant _)_. She was so excited when the gray wizard entered the dining room full of dwarves and herself, she had to put her teddy bear to her mouth to muffle a scream.

She could already tell that he was a wizard, even after he hung up his pointy hat and long staff. He still had the gray robes, long beard, and this vibrating presence that she could feel shaking in her bones like electricity. It was magic. She was sure of it.

His name was Gandalf the Grey, he had told her. She had been delighted when he asked her to go fetch some plates, and a little annoyed when Maia tried to stop her at one point. Her big sister _really_ needed to relax. The dwarves didn't look dangerous (except for Dwalin, of course, and maybe the one with the axe in his head, but it was hard to tell). It actually felt like she entered one of her favorite fairy tales: _Snow White and the Seven Dwarves._ Along with a wizard and a hobbit, of course. The lack of intelligent animals was a bit disappointing, though.

_I'm Snow White,_ she thought playfully, noting her dark hair and light skin. _And instead of seven dwarves, there's twelve of them. Twelve's better than seven anyway. It's a lucky number!_

When the feast had finally started, there were no room left on the table for elbows and plates. The dwarves overcrowded the table, grabbing at everything that was laid and chatting loudly among each other. Lori couldn't catch their words much, her ears ringing with their shouting, but as she had seated herself among them, sitting in between Kili and another young dwarf with mousy brown hair and layers of gray sweaters, reaching for food and just stuffing it in their mouth like they were. Nobody used utensils and nobody was scolding her for eating messy. She couldn't stop smiling.

"Bombur, catch!" Bofur yelled and tossed a biscuit across the table. She watch with wide eyes as it flew through the air and landed square in the fat red-haired dwarf's mouth. An uproar of cheers filled the room, the dwarves pumping their fists and going beserk with their sport and fun. Somebody had grabbed a whole chicken and Gandalf was passing a basket, a biscuit trapped in his mouth. She squealed in laughter and clapped her hands. This was better than tossing popcorn and catching it with your tongue!

Wondering where Bilbo, Maia, and Kyle were, Lori leaned forward a little to peer into the hallway's entrance. She found Bilbo pacing around anxiously, before turning to the now-empty pantry, his shoulders slumping heavily. Lori's smile faded. Why wasn't he having fun? Sure, she felt bad about everyone draining his pantry, but he hasn't even _eaten_ yet. Then she spotted Maia stepping up to pat Bilbo on the back. Well, at least he wasn't alone. But where was-

"Scoot over!" Kyle's voice said above her, and she looked up to see her big brother trying to squeeze his way behind the dwarves and then settling in between her and Kili.

"Sparky!" she cheered, as he lifted her slightly so that she could sit on his lap.

"About time, mate!" Kili said, thumping Kyle hard on the back in approval. "Thought you weren't going to join!"

"Well, I _am_ starving and my baby sister is having all the fun, so I thought, 'What the hell?'" Kyle said, shrugging with an easy smile. Kili laughed and thumped his back again; Kyle rubbed the sore spot. The guy was no doubt stronger than he looked.

"What about Maia?" said Lori.

"She'll warm up, eventually," Kyle said, rolling his eyes. "She's just being such a grown-up!"

"Bleh!"

Meanwhile, after Maia finished comforting Bilbo, she felt someone behind her and turned to see it was Fili who used the barrel he and his brother hijacked to refill three pints. When he turned to see her glare at him, arms crossed, he smiled wider and raised a pint. "Change your mind yet, lass?"

"About what?"

"About joining. If you want the ale back, you have to come back and get it yourself." He winked.

She blushed. "You are unbelievable!" she exclaimed, though her voice didn't come out as stern as she hoped. If anything, she was trying not to laugh, or smile. "Conning me was a dick move, mister! What are you and your brother supposed to be, swindlers from the wagon?"

"Oh, how you wound me so, milady!" joked Fili, putting an foaming mug over his heart, sounding more amused than insulted. "Actually, Nori is the swindler of the company. You can ask him if you like. I will introduce you."

Maia raised an eyebrow. "I'll pass. If you're not a swindler, then I'd say you come pretty damn close! Should I be worried?"

"Not as much as you should be around my younger brother," he answered, gently. His hair reflected gold from the house light. " _That_ I can promise you."

Maia couldn't hold back her smile this time. She could already tell by just looking at the brothers that, even though they shared some kind energetic enthusiasm and mischievous streak, the brothers were also very different by distinguishing their voice tones and personalities. So far, there were two things about Fili that were obvious: he was the older _and_ the gentler of the two, while Kili was exotic and bolder, like he was not afraid of anything.

_Much like a crazy younger sibling,_ she thought. _Like Kyle and Lori put into one._ "I know exactly what you mean," she agreed, allowing herself to laugh a little.

Fili seemed very pleased by her reaction. Time seemed to slow again as they looked at each other. Her heart started pacing again. What _is up with that?_

"If you change your mind, then..." he said after that short moment of looking at her. "Little Lori must be missing her big sister." Then, faster than she could blink, the golden-haired young dwarf whipped around and then started stepping high and mighty across the dining table. Maia gawked and a disbelieving laugh escaped her as she watched.

"Who wants an ale?" bellowed Fili, as he walked and passed the mugs. "There you go!"

"Over here, brother!" Kili hit him in the leg. Lori stood up on her brother's lap to reach for the ale, causing Maia to start a little, but Fili held it out of reach, laughing, "Too slow!" And Maia relaxed and laughed again at Lori's complaining face, Kyle laughing behind her.

"Here, have another drink!" Dwalin bellowed, and he poured his ale into Oin's ear trumpet. Then the big dwarf thumped his fists on the table with booming laughter as Oin's eyes widened and then blew through his trumpet, foamy drips spraying out like a party blowout. They all continued laughing, Lori's high-pitched squealing laughter heard among the male voices.

"Ale, on the count of three!" Bofur announced, and all the dwarves raised their mugs to clink together. "One...two...Up!" All their voices were instantly silenced once the mugs touched their lips. There was a chorus of loud gulping noises from all of them, some spilling their ale over their beards in the process. Kili and Ori both had to use two hands to gulp theirs down. Kyle and Lori were looking around them with open mouths, smiles slowly growing on their faces.

Kyle looked over at Maia and mouthed at her, " _Do it."_

_"No,"_ Maia mouthed back, shaking her head with a grin. She had done it before with beer, and she did not plan on doing it again a second time this week.

Finally, the dwarves drunk every last drop of ale. A moment later, at least three dwarves started burping, the one with the star-shaped hair and braided beard the loudest by far. Everyone started laughing...when then came the loudest, most disgusting burp of all. To everyone's shock, it was Ori, the smallest of the dwarves.

When he finished, smiling brightly, Lori was the first to speak up, her squeaky voice breaking the silence, "Excuse you!"

With that, everyone started laughing again and the nearby dwarves started clapping a young, proud Ori on the back, Bofur shouting out mirthfully, "I _KNEW_ YOU HAD IT IN YA!" Kili ruffled a giggling Lori's curls affectionately.

Even Maia was laughing until she got cramps, leaning against the wall nearby the dining room. The burps were no doubt disgusting, but when it came from Ori...it was too much! She wiped the happy tears from her eyes. When she turned to Bilbo, her laughter froze.

The hobbit was still staring at the pantry, but this time his shoulders were more tense than before.

_Well, that can't be good,_ Maia thought. She started to move toward Bilbo, but a large hand caught her wrist. "Oh no, you don't!" Bofur exclaimed, and pulled her backward until her bottom hit an empty chair next to him. "You've been out of the fun long enough, and I'd bet my hat you haven't eaten yet!"

"Oh, I'm fine-" Maia started to say, but then a lamb leg appeared in her vision.

"Can't refuse an offer when it's given now, can you?" Bofur wriggled his eyebrows.

Maia snorted and then took the greasy lamb leg between her fingers. Across the table, she could see a certain golden haired dwarf looking right at her with those deep blue eyes. He smirked and raised his mug at her, nodding.

Resigned, Maia smiled softly, flicking the lamb leg at him with a similar gesture, and then took a large bite out of it in the process.

* * *

"Excuse me, that is a doily," exclaimed Bilbo after dinner, snatching the fancy cloth out of Nori's greasy hands, _"not_ a dishcloth!"

"But its full of holes," said Bofur, leaning against the kitchen wall with another mug in his hand.

"It's supposed to look like that. It's crochet," Bilbo said tightly, while trying to fold the doily.

Bofur tilted his head, the flaps of his hat waving. "Oh, and a wonderful game it is, too...if you've got the balls for it," he joked, and the dwarves at the kitchen table laughed while Bilbo walked stiffly back to the counter and slapped the doily back in place, his temper on the edge.

"Bebother and confusticate these dwarves!" he growled to himself, before pinching his nose, taking a deep breath when Gandalf spoke from behind him, "My dear Bilbo, what on earth is the matter?"

"What's the matter?" Bilbo whipped around as Gandalf passed him and he stomped up to the wizard, his patience overflowing all at once. "You know _bloody well_ what on earth is the matter! This-this-this whole _conjure_! This- _I'm surrounded by dwarves!"_ he finally blurted out hotly. He leaned forward and hissed, "What are they doing here?" Nearby, Nori and Bofur started wrestling over his rope of sausage.

"Oh, they're quite a merry gathering," said Gandalf, heartily, before he added half-assuredly, "once you get use to them."

Bilbo grabbed the wizard's arm and yanked the larger man forcibly into the hallway. "I _don't_ want to get used to them!" he snapped.

"Well, here is this coming from a hobbit who had the courage to invite three children of Men in his home," Gandalf pointed out, but not unkindly. "A strange sort of children, as well. Not the type a _Baggins_ would normally allow in his lovely hole, wouldn't you say?" His eye twinkled.

Bilbo straightened. _"That_ is an entirely different story," he said loudly. "They were lost and _I_ invited them in. They didn't invite themselves in, nor did they attempt to destroy the place. I-I-I mean, _look at this!"_ He waved a frantic hand around. _"_ Here's what the Dainsons _didn't_ do! Look at the state of my kitchen! There's mud trod into the carpet! They-they _pillaged_ the pantry!" Bilbo stomped further down the hall with Gandalf following. "I'm not even going to tell you what they've done in the bathroom. They've all but destroyed the plumbing!" Bilbo whipped back around, facing Gandalf with wringing hands. "I don't understand what they are doing in my house!" he squeaked.

"Excuse me," Ori walked up to a still steaming Bilbo with a plate in his hand and said shyly, "I'm sorry to interrupt...but what should I do with my plate?"

Bilbo was about to speak when a gloved hand reached over. "Here you go, Ori, give it to me!" said Fili, taking the plate. Then, suddenly he tossed the plate sideways into the air like a frisbee.

On the other side, Kili caught with one hand and then tossed into the kitchen to Bifur, who had his back on him the whole time. Then another. And another.

"Whoa, watch out!" Maia shouted, pulling Kyle down as another plate went over their heads. They had appeared in the hallway just in time to see Fili tossing dishes at Kili, while Bilbo shouted, " _EXCUSE ME!_ THAT'S MY MOTHER'S WEST FARTHING POTTERY! IT'S OVER A HUNDRED YEARS OLD!"

Instead, Kili knee-kicked the pottery into the air like it was a soccer ball and flipped into the kitchen.

"Dude!" Kyle exclaimed, but was thrilled at the talent. "Man, I gotta show you soccer!"

Fili was bouncing another pottery on both of his shoulders with ease, smirking at a wide-eyed Maia. When he finally tossed it to Kili, Maia covered her amazement with a scoff, "Show off! Don't break them!"

"Oh, you haven't seen it all, Miss Maia Dainson!" Fili said as another dish started bouncing on shoulders, knees, and heels. "Just watch and learn!"

Just then in the dining room came a musical tinkling and clanking of silverware and their thumping against the wooden table. Lori watched with laughter on her lips as the dwarves, Bofur, Gloin, Oin, and Dori at the table swiped and drummed the forks and knives in rhythm. They looked to be enjoying themselves when Bilbo shouted from the hallway, "And-And can you not do that?! You'll BLUNT them!"

"Ooh, did you hear that, lads?" hooted Bofur, still thumping the silverware. "Lassie?" Lori giggled and started bouncing on her seat with the rhythm, her teddy flopping with her. Bofur started stomping his feet. "He says we'll blunt the knives!" They laughed.

Kili tossed another dish and sang while gesturing for another, **"Blunt the knives, bend the forks!"**

**"Mash the bottles, and burn the corks!"** sang Fili, shoulder-tossing another cup.

Then all the dwarves started singing, the rhythm of the kitchen ware building up more intensely:

" **Chip the glasses and crack the plates**

**That's what Bilbo Baggins hates!**

**Cut the cloth, tread on the fat,**

**Leave the bones on the bedroom mat**

**Pour the milk on the pantry floor**

**Splash the wine on every door!"**

As Bilbo looked on in horror, the Dainsons' in amusement, the dwarves were practically dancing as they kept tossing, flicking, and rolling dishes while continuing to sing merrily with the drum-like rhythm:

**"Dump the crocks on the boiling bowl**

**Pound them up with thumping pole**

**When you're finished, if they are whole**

**Send them down the hall to roll!"**

Everyone was dancing under flying dishes. Bofur was playing a happy tune on a flute he pulled out of his pouch. Dwarves were now stomping in rhythm on the table. Balin watched on with amusement as he casually flicked plates over his head for Fili to catch. Lori had somehow ended up on Gandalf's lap, hopping up and down with the music while Gandalf smoked his pipe. Dishes flew passed his smoke, but he chuckled merrily and Lori raised her teddy bear to catch the smoke.

Maia watched, stomping her bare foot with the beat, having a habit of dancing with these sort of things and humming with their song. Toward what seemed like the conclusion, Kili had suddenly tossed a plate to Kyle by accident-Maia, Lori, and Kyle gasped in horror-but by some miraculous reflex, Kyle _caught it._

Kyle stared at the last dish in his tightened hands in disbelief...and then a smile split his face as he gave out a cheerful laugh and put the last plate in the pile, just when everyone sang:

**"That's what Bilbo Baggins hates!"**

Bilbo burst through the crowd of dwarves at that moment with a pale face, expecting broken dishes and mayhem, but everyone laughed at his dumbfounded look when seeing all the dishes neat and tidied up before him. Kili somewhere laughed, "Look at his face!" Gandalf stood up and nodded to the hobbit, "Ah, Bilbo!"

"Whoa, Sparky, you caught a flying plate!" Lori shouted over the noise. "That was so cool!"

Kyle smiled and then shrugged casually at a now relaxed Bilbo, who gave him a weak smile in return. Maia felt someone touched her arm and she looked to see Fili smiling up at her, looking smug.

"This normal for you guys?" Maia inquired, still in awe by all she witnessed.

Fili folded his arms, still holding a mug, and shrugged. "Something like that."

The cheers were interrupted by three loud knocks that shook the air. The mood had sudden calmed down. The dwarves' smiles faded as they looked toward the door. Fili stiffened next to Maia, his smile fading and his blue eyes hardening. He put down his mug on the table and sighed. He suddenly looked reserved, like his cheery mood had an off switch, but he didn't exactly look upset either. He looked over and met Kili's eye, who was the only one in the room who smiled again, even when it was small.

Bilbo and the Dainsons felt the tension subtly, like something important was about to happen. "What is it?" Lori piped up, breaking the silence.

_That's what I'd like to know?_ Maia frowned, exchanging glances with Kyle, who shrugged in return.

Gandalf lowered his pipe. His expression became sober, businesslike, when he announced in serious tone, "He is here."


	8. Maps and Contracts

"He is here."

As Gandalf went to the front door, all the other dwarves following at once in complete silence for the first time this evening, Kyle wondered about this guest at the door, who obviously had quite a powerful effect on all the dwarves, including Gandalf. _"Just the one,"_ the wizard had told him. Who was this 'one' that they had all waited for? Kyle exchanged a frown with Bilbo, and he, the hobbit, and his sisters trailed after the bunch, hanging back from view as they watched Gandalf open the round front door of Bag End.

"Gandalf," a low, deep voice greeted. When the newcomer entered the hole with purposeful footsteps, all three siblings' breath caught at the very sight and sound of this particular dwarf. He was a tall dwarf with a broad figure clothed in silver chest armor over midnight blue fabric, a long dark leather coat collared with thick fur, black fingerless gloves patched with silver gauntlets, steel-toed boots, and a silver belt crest representing a certain sigil of high value and importance. He had a mane of raven black hair with silver streaks, a short black beard framing his rough but refined features, and deep blue eyes sharp and hard as iron, but luring and bright like fire.

He had deep, forbidding presence that sent a tremor in mind and body, making him singularly, dwarves and humans aside, the most fearsome and majestic _person_ the Dainson children had ever seen in their lives.

"I thought you said this place would be easy to find," the black-haired dwarf spoke to Gandalf, while unclipping his traveling cloak. All the dwarves bowed their head silently in his presence. "I lost my way, twice. I wouldn't have found it at all if had not been for that mark on the door."

"Mark?!" Bilbo had pushed through the crowd, past the children, and finally into the open, apparently didn't notice the dwarf yet when he looked at Gandalf accusingly. "There's no mark on that door! It was painted a week ago!"

_Yeah, and I helped,_ thought Kyle, though he was surprised at the mention of the mark, and he knew Maia and Lori felt the same. The mark on the door...he _knew_ he had seen that blue, glowing rune on the door at the end of today (Maia had claimed she had seen it when helping Bilbo carry back the groceries), but when they pointed it out to Bilbo, the hobbit made no sign of acknowledging or _seeing_ the strange mark at all. It was weird.

"There is a mark," confirmed Gandalf, looking a little apologetic. "I put it there myself."

_That explains everything._ While Gandalf spoke, however, Kyle caught a momentary glimpse of the head dwarf's proud, composed figure melting into a warm smile, while handing his cloak to _Kili._ The young dwarf smiled back and dutifully took the cloak, before the two clutched arms for a long moment. When Fili appeared from behind his brother, his expression was composed but his eyes were happy. He then gave a small smile and bowed his head to the black haired dwarf, whom nodded in return.

Before Kyle could dwell on this exchange, Gandalf spoke up, "Bilbo Baggins, allow me to introduce the leader of our company: Thorin Oakenshield."

Even the name itself held an air of majesty. The hobbit turned to see whom the wizard gestured to, his frown wavering in surprise as the dwarf turned to face him, the stern, hardened look reclaimed as if he had never smiled before. "So," Thorin Oakenshield said, looming above the halfing by a whole foot, "this is the hobbit."

Bilbo swallowed. Out of all the dwarves he had met at the door, this one intimidated him the most. He was, without doubt, their leader.

It didn't help that the dwarf looked down on him, sizing him up, like a lion above a mouse. Then he slowly started circling him. "Tell me, Mr. Baggins, have you done much fighting?"

"Pardon me?" Bilbo was surprised by that question.

"Axe or sword?" Thorin continued, finally facing the hobbit with a narrowed gaze. "What's your weapon of choice?"

"Weapon of-Ahem!" Bilbo cleared his throat to cover his nervous laugh and said more formally, trying not to seem shaken, "Well, I do have some skill at Conkers, if you must know...but I fail to see...why that's irrelevant."

Thorin nodded and glanced back at his companions. "Thought as much," he affirmed, before eying Bilbo with a cold smirk. "He looks more like a grocer than a burglar." The dwarves chuckled behind him, as if in agreement, as Thorin turned to leave the room, Bilbo looking confused and hurt in the spot, Gandalf sighing irritably.

It was when Dwalin, Dori, and Ori stepped aside for Thorin that the leader's blue eyes finally noticed the three young humans at present. His smirk disappeared instantly and eyes narrowed dangerously. Kyle tensed up, forcing himself to meet this dwarf's dark glare, while Maia pulled a trembling Lori in between them, protectively.

"Gandalf, what is the meaning of this?" Thorin finally spoke, his eyes still fixed on all three siblings huddled together, who were all rooted on the spot like frightened prey. His velvet voice was tight. "I did not recall you saying we were acquainting with more than _one_ member of this house _._ "

"Ah, yes," Gandalf said behind him, bending over to see through the entrance. "It was quite a pleasant surprise for me, as well. Apparently, you and your company aren't the only guests in Master Baggins' home."

Kyle felt all eyes toward them, including a nervous looking Bilbo. Maia shifted uncomfortably behind him.

"You stay in the hobbit's hole, yet you are obviously not of the same race," said Thorin, who had already observed their PJs and socks. His eyes met Lori's, who looked away instantly and hid her face in Maia's hip, too shy to hold his steely gaze for more than a second. "Who are you and what business has the race of Men in a village of halfings?" he addressed either Maia or Kyle, being the two oldest.

Maia looked hesitant, so Kyle spoke first, not about to let this dwarf shake him. "I'm Kyle," he said. "Kyle Dainson. These are my sisters, Maia and Lori." He nodded toward one before the other. "We're here because, um...because we were lost and-and Bilbo over there was the only one around here willing to take us in. Temporarily, anyway," he added quickly, glancing over at Bilbo, and then at Gandalf. "That's actually what we wanted to talk to you about," he told the wizard. "We were staying here because we have no idea how to get back home. Back to where _we_ came from."

"And where is it that you and your kin come from, Master Dainson?" asked Thorin. "Are you not of the Shire? Where are the rest of your kin?" _Where are your parents?_ was the real unspoken question. He and Kyle were the same height (if the boy was not taller by half an inch), but mentally his dwarf loomed like a giant with his words and stoic presence. Even more so than Dwalin.

"No, not really," Kyle said hesitantly. He mentally cursed his own stammering while trying to search for a good answer. "We, um-we-" He wasn't sure if now was the right time to admit that he and his sisters were from a different world. Bilbo might have quickly gotten over his skepticism about their state-home Texas...but the dwarves weren't Bilbo.

"It's complicated," Maia finally said, bring Thorin's attention to her. Her voice was steady, but it barely held down the nervous shrill. "And what about you?" she dared to ask, gathering her courage and putting a hand on her brother's shoulder. "What are you and your friends doing in Hobbiton, coming out of nowhere and barging in like the army stopped by?"

There was an amused chuckle from Gandalf, and even a few dwarves coughed to hide a snort. Thorin raised an eyebrow at Maia, otherwise unmoved. "It's _complicated,_ " he said softly, but not losing its former suspicion. Finally, Thorin stepped forward and the siblings instinctively stepped aside as the head dwarf walked passed them, his company following close behind (Fili giving Maia a quick eye-blinking glance before continuing). "If you wish to know, stay awake and listen carefully, but keep out of sight. I care not."

Soon Maia, Kyle, Lori, Bilbo, and Gandalf were the only ones near the doorway as the dwarves made their way into the dining room. Lori left Maia's side and scrambled into Bilbo's embrace.

"What the hell just happened?" Kyle managed to say.

"I apologize for that untidy introduction," Gandalf told them all, still tight from before. "Dwarves can be a merry gathering, but they can also be suspicious of those unfamiliar of their knowledge. Most especially of those from a race outside of their own. Thorin Oakenshield with more reason than most."

"Ya think?" stated Kyle. Maia smirked in agreement. "The guy's a real douche."

"All the same-and mind your tongue, young man," Gandalf said, giving a Kyle a look, "it won't due to be insulting folk before you get a chance to truly know them-we should follow them. The meeting will have started by now."

"Wait, Gandalf!" protested Bilbo, still clutching Lori and stroking her curls. "I need to-I mean, the Dainsons here need to-We need to talk to you about their situation!"

"Yes, yes, I know! We most certainly have some important things to discuss about these youngsters!" Gandalf agreed, winking at the little girl who peered up at the wizard. "My curiosity is already taking a toll, but I am afraid I have to ask that you wait just a little longer. The dwarves cannot start the meeting without me, and if you still wish to know the purpose of our arrival, I suggest the four of you come and hear this out. When everything is settled, I will hear your story after. I give you my word on this, but I ask that you stall a little longer. Can you do that?"

The wizard reminded them a little of their grandparents, either one asking the children to be patient before rushing something. There was little left to argue about, but then again, they really would like to know about the dwarves' unexpected arrival.

"Alright, fine," Maia sighed, while Kyle muttered, "Whatever," and Lori piped, "Okay!"

* * *

"What news from the meeting of Ered Luin?" asked Balin to Thorin, who slowly sipping the soup Bombur had recently served. All thirteen dwarves were gathered back the dining table, the food all gone and the business getting started. "Did they all come?"

"Aye," confirmed Thorin. "Envoys from all seven kingdoms." The dwarves cheered, while Thorin sipped his ale in satisfaction.

"What do the dwarves of the Iron Hills say?" Dwalin spoke up, his hardened gaze meeting Thorin's. "Is Dain with us?"

Thorin put down his spoon and sighed tiredly. "They will not come," he said grimly. The dwarves groaned in disappointment, while Dwalin rolled his eyes, not looking too surprised, and Balin clasped his hands together, sighing heavily.

"They say that this quest is ours," he continued reluctantly, meeting all their stares, "and ours alone."

Bilbo, who was standing in the background with Maia, Kyle, and Lori (who was in Maia's arms, balanced on her big sister's hip), decided to choose this moment to speak, "You're going on a quest?"

Thorin stiffened and put down the ale he drank after noticing Bilbo and the young human siblings at present. Gandalf cleared his throat noisily and spoke, "Bilbo, my dear fellow! Maia, Kyle, Lori..." He nodded to them, making it clear that they were welcome to be here. "Let us have a little more light." Bilbo nodded and went to fetch one while Gandalf pulled out a rolled up parchment from his side pouch. Kyle, Maia, and Lori looked at it, curiously.

"Far to the East, over ranges and rivers," began Gandalf, unrolling the parchment, "beyond woodlands and wastelands..." He spread out the parchment on the table before Thorin, "...lies a single solitary peak."

The parchment turned out to be a map, much like Bilbo's collection, but with different imprinting style. The surface was golden and aged, labeled with a paragraph of ancient runes beneath a handwritten title that read, "The Desolation of Smaug." The spot were Gandalf tapped his finger was an inked drawing of a mountain connected with a long river and the small figure flying above the mountain's apex looked like a dragon.

"'The Lonely Mountain,'" Maia read quietly, the moment Bilbo came back with a lit candle and placed it next to the map. Memories of the fiery void flashed in her mind briefly. M _ountain...desolation...fire...home..._

"Aye," the red-haired dwarf called Gloin grunted proudly. "Oin has read the portents, and the portents say _it is time."_

Gandalf pulled out his pipe and with a wave of his index finger, a little flame appeared to light it. Lori blinked at him over Maia's shoulder. This was the first time she was seeing him do magic.

"Ravens were seen flying back to the mountain, as it was foretold," explained Oin. "'When the birds of Yore return to Erebor, the reign of the beast with end.'"

The Dainsons all looked up at once. Bilbo, who had wandered off in the background, whipped around in attention.

"Wait... _beast?"_ Kyle said, eyes widening at Oin, before looking at Gandalf in disbelief, who had the pipe in his mouth attentively, eyes flickering to the hobbit.

"Uh, what beast?" Bilbo asked weakly.

"Well, that would be reference to Smaug the Terrible," Bofur explained, casually leaning back while smoking his pipe. "Chiefest and greatest calamity of our age." The dwarves were all intense and blazing at the mention of Smaug. The elders' eyes looked haunted by memories while the young ones-Fili, Kili, and Ori-were hardened with determination. Maia glanced back down at the map and found the little dragon.

_Smaug,_ she thought. _Red scales...fire...desolation...mountain..._

"Airborne fire-breather," continued Bofur, unswayed by the heavy air, "teeth like razors, claws like meat hooks! Extremely fond of precious metal-"

"Yes, I know what a dragon is," interrupted Bilbo, fingers intwining nervously.

"A dragon!" whispered Kyle in awe, before breathing a quiet laugh of amazement. He was a fan of dragons. It didn't matter if everyone else didn't share his excitement; there was a real, live _dragon_ out there.

Ori suddenly shot up to his feet, startling his older brother, Dori. "I'm not afraid," he announced, looking so defiant it looked more sweet than bold. "I'm up for it! I'll give him a taste of the dwarfish iron right up his jacksie!"

While Maia and Kyle smiled, Lori giggling, the dwarves cheered for him, Nori giving his little brother a fist-pumping praise while Dori grabbed the young dwarf's arm. "Sit down," he scolded, yanking Ori back into his seat.

"The task would be difficult enough with an army behind us," Balin said in a diplomatic tone, "but we number just thirteen. And not thirteen of the best," he added, begrudgingly, "nor brightest."

_Ooh, way to throw it out there, white beard!_ Maia winced inwardly as the dwarves started murmuring at once, while Nori shouted out, "Here, who're you calling dim?"

"What did he say?" Oin asked, raising his trumpet.

"We may be few in number," Fili's bold voice broke through the arguments, and Maia looked up in surprise to see the blond dwarf's unwavering confidence, "but we're fighters! _All_ of us, to the _last_ dwarf!" He slapped his hand on the table, adding strength to his speech.

"And you forget we have a wizard in our company," Kili added with naked enthusiasm, the way his his brown eyes sparkled reminding Maia of Lori on a happy day. "Gandalf would have killed _hundreds_ of dragons in his time!"

Gandalf was completely taken off guard by this. "Oh, well, no," he quickly said, waving his pipe in denial. "I wouldn't say-"

"How many, then?"

"What?" Gandalf stopped, finding the source of the question.

"Well, how many dragons have you killed?" Dori asked again. His question made all the dwarves look at Gandalf with curiosity, expectancy. Even Thorin.

_None,_ Maia could just tell by the way Gandalf started coughing his smoke silently, loss for words. She tried not to laugh as the look on his face, though she could hear Kyle mouthing, _"Seriously?"_

"Go on," Dori said more loudly. "give us a number!" Then, all at once, the table of dwarves erupted into a mixture of loud arguing and shouting while standing out of their chairs, already making wages on how many dragons the gray wizard killed. Maia pulled slightly away, holding Lori away from the chaos, while Bilbo tried and failed to get everyone to settle down, "Excuse me. Please..."

"Hey, guys, cool it, will ya?" shouted Kyle, but his cracking voice was drowned out by the dwarves' gruffer voices. _"Guys!_ C'mon!"

"SHAZARA!"* Thorin bellowed as he stood up abruptly. Instantly, all the dwarves plopped back down in their seats, silenced by their great leader. Even Kyle straightened and stared at Thorin with his mouth closed; Maia felt her bones tremble, and Lori stiffened in her arms, but the little girl was also peering at Thorin with wide brown eyes beneath her hair strands.

Thorin stood tall and mighty as he looked all his fellow dwarves in the eye. "If we have read these signs, do you not think others will have read them, too? Rumors have begun to spread. The dragon, Smaug, has not been seen for sixty years."

_Sixty years? That long?_ Maia shared an astonished look with Kyle.

"Eyes look to the East, assessing, wondering, weighing the risk," Thorin said. "Perhaps the vast wealth of our people now lies unprotected. Do we sit back, while others claim what is rightfully ours? Or do we seize this chance to TAKE BACK EREBOR?"

The dwarves started cheering from their leader's speech, as Thorin shouted out with pumping fists, "DU BEKAR! DU BEKAR!"* It was then Maia noticed the silver ring on his hand.

"You forget the front gate is sealed," Balin said loudly, once all had settled down. "There is no way into the mountain."

The joy was quickly diminished from the dwarves' faces. If she didn't know any better, Maia would think Balin didn't share the confidence everyone else did, whatever this whole deal with "Erebor" was about, and he seemed like a dwarf of reason.

"That, my dear Balin, is not entirely true," replied Gandalf. While he spoke, rolling out of his sleeve revealed a key. It looked old, made of solid iron with tiny runes along its angular crevices. Its metal flashed brightly into the light for all to witness. The key was beautiful, like an archeological finding of something grand and ancient.

Thorin stared at the key, completely in awe. A flash of emotion appeared in his eyes, so quickly Maia almost missed it. "How came you by this?" he whispered hoarsely. The key clearly held high significance to the dwarf leader.

"It was given to me by your father, by Thrain," Gandalf said gently, "for safe keeping." Thorin's expression wavered at the mention of his father's name. Maia could sympathize; thinking about her own father hurt as well. She glanced at Kyle and, as expected, had his lips pressed in a thin line, thinking the same thing.

Then Gandalf held out the key. "It is yours now."

When the key was passed on to Thorin, the way the dwarves looked on with silence and wonder, like the whole room had held its breath for this moment, Maia had a feeling that they were all witnessing the passing of a family heirloom. Thorin held the key delicately at first, observing its fine craft with a thoughtful expression, before gripping his father's key more tightly as though he were afraid it would slip through his fingers.

"Pretty," whispered Lori in Maia's ear, holding out her teddy bear like he would see better.

"If there is a key," Fili said softly, and Maia could see he looked equally as thoughtfully with a spark of hope in his blue eyes as glanced from Thorin to Gandalf, "there must be a door."

Gandalf nodded. "These runes speak of a hidden passage to the lower halls," he said, placing his pipe handle upon the foreign letters at the far side.

Kili took his brother's shoulder, smiling brightly. "There's another way in," he murmured, excitedly. Fili smiled at his brother. Maia smiled, too. A door in a _mountain?_ That ought to look interesting, especially after seeing multiple doors in grassy hillsides first.

"Well, if we can find it," claimed Gandalf to Kili, "but dwarf doors are invisible when closed." All groaned softly ("Invisible?" Lori whispered excitedly. "Can we be invisible, too?") and Gandalf sighed, refocusing on the map. "The answer lies somewhere hidden in this map and I do not have the skill to find it, _but..."_ He halted everyone's disappointed with a more positive note, "There are others in Middle Earth who can."

Thorin gave the wizard a look.

"The task I have in mind will require a great deal of stealth, and no small amount of courage..." Gandalf glanced at Bilbo, who was already fascinated by the map, the key, and this whole gathering. Maia frowned, not missing the twinkle in the wizard's eye; why was Gandalf looking at him like that? Was she missing something?

"But if we are careful and clever," Gandalf returned to the dwarves, "I believe that it can be done."

"That's why we need a burglar," Ori said.

"Hm, a good one, too!" Bilbo was observing the map closely, when he straightened up, fingering his straps in agreement. "An expert, I'd imagine!"

"And are you?" Oin said loudly.

Bilbo, confused, looked over his shoulder, then at Kyle, who looked equally as lost and shrugged, eyes saying, 'Don't look at me.' Realization then dawned on Maia. _Oh, God._

"Am I what?" Bilbo inquired to Oin.

Oin apparently didn't hear Bilbo's question. "He said he's an expert! Heh hey!" The dwarves laughed at Oin miscommunication.

Bilbo, however, drew back, shaking his head. "What, me? No! No, no, no, no, no," he squeaked. "I-I'm not a burglar! I have never stolen a _thing_ in my life!"

Maia believed it. To her, burglars were more like bank robbers and people who B & E in houses at night. And she wasn't the only one, as Balin spoke up, "I'm afraid I would have agree with Master Baggins. He's hardly burglar material."

Bilbo nodded at Balin for making a clear point.

"Aye, the wild is no place for gentle folk who can neither fight nor fend for themselves," agreed Dwalin, gruffly eying at Bilbo's small form.

"Oh, he's fine," Kili said loudly, but his voice was quickly drowned out by the dwarves' rising voices, either arguing or laughing at the idea of a hobbit being their burglar. Gandalf was looking at them, his face slowly darkening.

"Bilbo's not that bad," protested Kyle, trying to catch anyone's attention. "We played hide-and-seek with the guy and he always-"

"Kyle, you're not helping," muttered Bilbo, tugging the boy's arm. It was true, though. During their stay here, Lori had always _begged_ everyone, including Bilbo, to play hide-and-seek with her, since Bag End was a palace full of hiding places. Kyle and Maia would participate, even though their larger forms gave much away, but Bilbo would always managed to sneak up on them when he found them. That hobbit's footsteps were like cat-steps, almost completely silent. Even when they _weren't_ playing hide-and-seek, Mr. Baggins would suddenly appear by Maia's side and scare the hay out of her.

_"Enough!"_ Gandalf boomed. As the wizard stood, the room grew heavy with a growing black void that darkened the room, flickering the candle, overwhelming the courage of everyone in the room. The dwarves silenced and shrunk back in alarm, even Thorin flinched. Bilbo stepped back, cautiously. "If I say Bilbo Baggins is a burglar, then a burglar he is!"

Maia, Kyle, and Lori seemed to have gotten the worst of it, even though it wasn't directed at them. They had huddled together, feeling the major chill and hectic vertigo shaking their bodies to the core from the rising tide of darkness. It lit a spark of terror in their chests that made them all gasp at once, as though physically punched, Gandalf's anger becoming a living _thing._ It was magic. Big time.

Lori whimpered slightly and Kyle gasped, _"Dude!"_ when the magic finally drained away. Maia let out the breath she held, trying to stop her shaking. Whatever _emotional_ trick Gandalf pulled had been totally unnecessary!

When Gandalf calmed, muttering a quick apology to the Dainsons, he continued in a more formal tone, "Hobbits are remarkably light on their feet. In fact, they can pass unseen by most, if they choose. And while the dragon is accustomed to the smell of dwarf, the scent of a _hobbit_ is all but unknown to him, which gives us a distinct advantage. Bilbo opened his mouth, but Gandalf lowered himself to his seat and faced Thorin, who looked less than pleased. "You asked me to find the fourteenth member of this company, and I have chosen Mr. Baggins. There's a lot more to him than appearances suggest, and he's got a great deal more to offer than any of you know," he said sternly, as most of the dwarves either gave Gandalf the stink-eye or were shaking their heads hopelessly.

Maia met Fili's gaze. He and his brother didn't look upset. They fidgeted uneasily in their seats, not knowing how to react at all for the sake of their companions.

Gandalf then glanced at Bilbo. "Including himself," he murmured.

Bilbo blinked. Thorin was still glaring at Gandalf, not acknowledging the hobbit in any way. Gandalf didn't break his gaze when he said to Thorin in a serious tone, "You must trust me on this."

Maia's gaze fell back on the map. The images and voices from her nightmares...from the day she, Kyle, and Lori woke up in the Shire...replayed in her memories, trying to ignore the terror that fiery phantom eye resurrected in her heart. _Blackness became sparks of flames like fireworks, the air thunderous with loud, incomprehensible noise. Everything was white, gold, red, like fire. She couldn't breathe. Couldn't move. She was on fire. She couldn't feel her brother and sister with her anymore. She tried to scream for them, but her voice was lost in all the roaring noise of the racing void._

_She saw a mountain...red scales...caves...desolation...a golden ring...and a white gem that shined like it contained a living galaxy..._

_The Heart of the Mountain...Home...Maia...Kyle...Lori..._

_...then came forth a large, flaming eye overwhelming her senses with such destructive power that scared her more than anything else. She screamed, waving her hands in front of her as if to fight off this monstrous force..._

_Mountain...red scales...caves...desolation...a golden ring...a white, swirling, frosty glow..._

_Heart of the Mountain, hissed the voice._

_Home._

Her eyes widened as she stared at the mountain on the map. _"Oh, my God, that's it!"_ she breathed in shock, but so quietly that only Lori and Kyle, who were still huddled with her, could hear.

"What?" Kyle looked at her with a startled frown.

Meanwhile, Thorin had looked like he wasn't going to budge...but the tension in his expression eased slightly when he finally said, "Very well. We'll do it your way." He turned to Balin. "Give him the contract."

"Oh, no, no, please!" Bilbo stammered as Balin dug for the contract.

It was so obvious! The images and voices they all had in their minds, ever since their sudden transportation from their dad's farmhouse to Middle Earth, must have been clues. Or _something_. It was weird and puzzling, and she hadn't known at the time about these random visions that burned into her mind like a bad movie, but now the answer was laid out on the table. It _had_ to be their way to get home. It didn't make sense, but it was the only conclusion she could come up with.

"We're coming, too..."

Gandalf looked at her. "I beg your pardon, my dear?"

"We're coming, too!" Maia said in a stronger voice.

There was a stunned silence. Balin was the first to speak in a reasonable tone, "Miss Maia-"

"Look, I know this is coming out of nowhere," she cut him off, while putting Lori down, "but my brother, sister, and I are-well, we're trying to go home." She winced inwardly. _Damn it! How am I gonna to explain this?_ "We kind of got here by accident and-look, it's gonna sound crazy to y'all, but...we're not from around here."

"Think we've already gathered that, lass," Nori commented, and the dwarves murmured in agreement.

"No, no, no," Kyle said quickly, "she means that we're _really_ not from around. Like, _at all."_

"We-um..." All the dwarves' expressions slowly drew into puzzled or suspicious frowns, causing Maia to halt and swallow nervously. "Actually, um..." She turned to Gandalf. "Can we-can we go talk about this in private?"

"No!" Thorin turned to face her. His glare was so black that she wanted to shrink three times smaller. "Anything that concerns the interests of the quest should be heard by all. By _me._ "

Since he put her in the spotlight, mercilessly so, Maia reminded herself that it was her own damn fault. She took a deep breath, like she would before singing a song. "Okay, fine. Since you asked so nicely...I believe that the mountain you're all talking about-the Lonely Mountain-might the place where my family and I can be able to get back home."

"Huh?" Kyle and Lori looked at her, dumbfounded. Everyone else was the same, looking completely lost.

"Remember how we got here?" she told her siblings, ignoring everyone else for the moment. "Remember the nightmares we got every night? We had the same dream, remember? The visions? The voices?"

"What is that lass blabbering about?" Oin said loudly, raising his ear trumpet. After that moment, Lori gasped in realization and Kyle's eyes widened. "Oh, my God!" he said, glancing at the map and then Maia, who nodded. "Son of a bitch!"

"Mind giving us some more details, Miss Dainson?" Dwalin demanded. _"Any_ of you three?"

"It's alright, children," said Gandalf, putting a comforting hand on Maia's shoulder. "There's no need to be afraid. Tell us, where do you come from?"

"Texas," Lori said loudly.

"What?" Gandalf blinked. He clearly wasn't expecting that answer.

"We live in Texas," the little girl repeated innocently.

"There is no such place," growled Thorin, making the little girl shrink back. "Do you take us for fools?"

"It's from a different world," Kyle said, stepping in front of Lori. He met Thorin's icy glare without flinching. " _We're_ from a different world. It's crazy shit, I know, but we come from a state called Texas, in a neighborhood near Houston. We were visiting our family's old farmhouse, and the next thing, my sisters and I were literally dropped off on The Hill near Hobbiton ten days ago. We still have no idea how or why, but all we care about is the 'how' so that we can get back home. Pronto!"

"Even if your story were true, _boy,_ " sneered Thorin, making Kyle bristle, "what _possibly_ makes you think that Erebor is your salvation? Do you expect to find this _Texas_ of yours inside the mountain?"

"No!" snapped Kyle. "Look, man, I don't know any more than you do about this whole two-worlds portal dilemma, but take a good look at us! Anyone! Do we _look_ like typical Middle Earth citizens to you?" He looked around at the dwarves.

"The skull on your shirt is far from ordinary," Kili pointed out, and then shut his mouth when Thorin turned to give him a silencing look.

It was true; the Dainsons' strange clothing and slight Texan accents alone were quite the giveaway, but Thorin dismissed it. "It does not prove anything! For what reason should I be able to trust the word of _children?_ Children of _Men?"_

"Thorin," warned Gandalf.

"Because they are telling the truth." It was Bilbo who spoke. Then he continued a little more firmly, standing beside Kyle and put a hand on the lad's clenched fist, "These _children_ have been staying with me for nearly two weeks, and they have already shown me that they come from somewhere far beyond my understanding. If you want proof, they have it, and I can assure you that they are not untrustworthy...w-which is w-why I think you should take them under consideration," he stammered slightly, when meeting Thorin's gaze. "A-At the very least, I-I-I hope _Gandalf_ would."

"This is most certainly unheard of," murmured Gandalf, smoking his pipe, thoughtfully, "but a subject that I cannot simply ignore. Perhaps, they could-"

"They will _not_ come with us!" hissed Thorin, making everyone flinch. "Truth or no, they are _children._ I will not have them interfere with this quest based on a hunch. A hunch that only a lunatic would beget."

Maia went to stop Kyle before her brother attempted to get in Thorin's face. "Who're you calling a lunatic, jackass?" snarled Kyle, gray eyes blazing. Dwalin had stood up from his table suddenly, hands hovering over to his axes.

"Kyle, _stop! Get a grip!"_ Maia shouted, and he reluctantly obeyed. When she turned around to face Thorin, there was calculating look in his motionless face. "Sorry about that! Listen, I don't care if y'all don't believe us, but your mountain is the only lead we've got now and we've pretty much got nowhere else to go! Bilbo's home is great, but we don't belong here!"

"This will not sway me, lass," whispered Thorin. "You will not be part of _my_ company!"

"Fine, we won't be," snapped Maia, but then breathed through her nose before continuing more mildly, "It's like what Bilbo said. If Gandalf will consider it-" She met the wizard's eyes briefly, "-my siblings and I will go with _him_ , not you. Think of it this way," she added, forcing herself to look at Thorin straight in the eye. "We're not part your company, just merely heading in the same direction at the same time for a different reason."

The company of dwarves all looked on, murmuring and nodding, clearly impressed by the young woman's wit. Even Balin raised his eyebrows, looking intrigued. Without looking away, Maia could have sworn she could hear Fili chuckling softly.

An unreadable light flickered in those darkened eyes, as Thorin observed her more thoughtfully. "You will be on your own," he said finally. "You will not rely on my kin for food or protection. Are you willing to take that risk with your younger kin?" He gestured to little Lori, who was watching the conversation innocently. "You are but a young woman, and you would bring _children_ with you into danger with no weapons to defend yourself?"

"Quit calling us children," muttered Kyle behind her. "Sheesh!"

"Not if I can help it," Maia replied, "'cause I'll make sure there is no danger! Either way, we're sticking together. If we're gonna go home, we have to be _together_ for that to happen. So yeah, I'm rolling my dice here."

Thorin raised his eyebrows at this expression, but didn't comment.

"If it would help," said Bilbo, uneasily, "I will be willing to-to think about this 'burglar business' if you would be willing to think about Maia's." Maia sent the hobbit a silent _Thank you_ in her thoughts.

Thorin stared at Maia a moment longer. "Balin," he said finally, before turning away, "the contract."

"About time," Balin finally stood up with the folded parchment already in hand and held it out to show Bilbo. "It's just the usual summary of out-of-pocket expenses, time required, remuneration, funeral arrangements, so forth."

Thorin took it and pressed into Bilbo's hands. "Funeral arrangements?" the hobbit squeaked.

"That bad, huh?" Kyle mused, as Bilbo stepped into the hallway and unfolded the contract, which tumbled down past the halfling's waist. He snorted. "Man, is this a quest or a run for errands?"

When the Dainsons went to join Bilbo, Lori bending down to touch the bottom of the parchment, Thorin leaned close to Gandalf. "I cannot guarantee their safety," he warned softly.

"Understood," Gandalf replied.

The dwarf leaned in closer. "Nor will I be responsible for their fate," he whispered. Gandalf looked at Thorin, slightly startled and sad, but he nodded. "Agreed."

"Let's see," Bilbo mumbled, while reading the contract, Kyle and Maia reading a little bit over his head, "'Terms: cash on delivery, up to but not exceeding one-fourteenth of total profit, if any.'" He nodded to himself. "Seems fair."

"So you get paid?" Kyle said. "Awesome! How much is one-fourteenth, though?"

"However much they have, I suppose," shrugged Bilbo, before continuing, "Eh 'present company shall not be liable for injuries inflicted by or sustained as a consequence thereof including but not limited to _lacerations...'"_

Gandalf turned sharply at the word. Lori tilted her head.

"'Evisceration...'" Frowning, Bilbo hastily flipped another fold and read silently. Then he turned to look at the company in disbelief, " _'Incineration?'"_

Both Maia and Kyle's jaws dropped, while Lori asked, "What's incin-cina-ration?" She managed to pronounce the word in her baby voice.

Bofur seemed to answer for her. "Oh, aye," he nodded. "He'll melt the flesh off your bones in a blink of eye." Lori squeaked in terror and hugged her teddy bear before charging back into Maia's safe arms.

Bilbo looked no better. His face had paled as he lowered the contract and looked ahead without seeing. "Huh," a small sound escaped him.

"You alright, laddie?" asked Balin, looking slightly sympathetic.

Bilbo leaned over on his knees. "Uh, yeah, I feel..." He took heavy breaths and straightened up. "Feel a bit faint."

Bofur stood up and continued cheerfully, "Think furnace with wings."

"Air, I-I-I need air..." croaked Bilbo, trying to breathe. The Dainsons looked at him with concern, but Bofur showed no mercy.

"Flash of light, searing pain, then poof! You're nothing more than a pile of ash!" Bofur said casually.

_You're insane,_ Maia thought towards the smug Bofur, feeling sick to her stomach herself. She couldn't imagine what this dragon was capable of. It was easier to think about it when she still believed they were a myth.

"Hmmmm," Bilbo hummed, his face draining whiter, and Kyle held out his hands cautiously, "Hey, take it easy, man!"

"Mm-hmmmm," the hobbit straightened up, waving Kyle off. The moment Kyle dropped his hands, however, Bilbo said, "Nope," and his eyes rolled at the back of his head when fainted backward with a crash across the floor. Kyle yelped a curse, and the Dainsons surrounded the hobbit, kneeling around him while Gandalf stood up and grumbled, "Very _helpful,_ Bofur!"

"This supposed to be your 'exercise of trust?'" Maia joked, while checking Bilbo's head for an injury.

"Oh, shut up!" mumbled Kyle.

_**To Be Continued….** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Khuzdul Translation:
> 
> *Silence!
> 
> *To Arms! To Arms!


	9. A Willing Heart

Maia and Kyle had go on either side of the unconscious Mister Baggins, Maia taking his arms and Kyle his legs, before lifting the hobbit off the ground, Gandalf directing them to place him in the sitting room. Little Lori followed them, looking pale but curious, having never seen a person faint before.

While the meeting had concluded, matters settled (though mixtures of skepticism and concern between the dwarves were exchanged), a decision that had yet to come from their "burglar." Maia had quickly reheated the tea in the kitchen while Kyle, Lori, and Gandalf laid Bilbo in his armchair, attempting to wake him up.

"Chamomile is a good recipe for aches, cramps, and indigestion," said Oin as she waited, "but should our burglar have a concussion, considering how hard he hit the floor-"

"Thanks, but I don't think it's too serious," said Maia, facing Oin. Since she already knew this elderly dwarf, who turned out to be an apothecary (the company's healer), was hard of hearing, she had to remember to look at him and speak loudly. "He'll probably just need some tea for a headache."

_"Break?"_ Oin said loudly, frowning with his raised ear trumpet. "No doubt he'll need one. He's quite a query, little fellow! What's so funny?" Maia was trying not to laugh, but failing with pressed lips. Bofur grabbed the ear trumpet and shouted in it, "Not 'break!' _Headache!_ I swear you need to get that trumpet fixed!"

"No need to shout," grumbled Oin, as Bofur chewed on his pipe, "and I told you already, my trumpet works just fine!"

Besides Maia, there were seven dwarves hanging around in the kitchen, four sitting at the table and three leaning against the counter, the air clouded with the smoke from their pipes. The smoke had this spicy, woodsy scent that deferred from the normal tobacco she was used to. Not that she smoked. Texas was a state _full_ of smokers and tobacco chewers, but they were usually the sickening pollution of cigarettes.

Her mom had smoked in her youth, but she had quit almost instantly after her older brother (Maia's uncle) had died of cancer when Maia was five and Kyle a few months old. Laura had been afraid that his endless supply of smoking had been part of the cause. Her dad, Arthur, had smoked, but had only limited to once a month for the family's sake (at least, it looked that way). Her grandparents still smoked, making the same excuse that old age was killing them anyway, so it didn't make sense to give up one of their pleasures. Even a few of Maia's friends smoked, at high school, ranches, Indian reservations, or on the tailgates of their trucks near the usual gas station between Houston and home.

Maia, however, didn't budge. She didn't mind the smell of smoke in the air sometimes, since it mostly couldn't be avoided, but like her mom she had been spooked by the side-effects it caused, especially concerning dear Uncle Kyle Hayes, whom was even more a cowboy than his little sister, Laura. While Maia chose to live a life without smoking, she was determined to pass on the warnings to her little brother and sister, Kyle and Lori.

"That wizard cannot be serious," grumbled Dwalin, who was leaning against the wall. "Choosing a halfling, of all things!" Bifur grunted and gestured in agreement from the table.

"Master Baggins hasn't even given an answer yet," Fili reminded him, who was sitting in one of the wooden chairs with his own pipe, next to his brother. "You think he will refuse?"

"It's very likely! Did you see his face?" Bofur snorted, mustache twitching. "I _knew_ he would pass out! Just had to see it for myself!"

"Oh, yeah, thanks a lot for that, by the way!" retorted Maia, crossing her arms. "I mean, seriously! He could've had a concussion because of your teasing!"

"Oh, but I wasn't _entirely_ teasing, lass! I was just purely being honest and reasonable." He leaned back and blew a smoke ring, smiling at Maia's widened eyes through the floating circle. "The fainting part was all the hobbit's doing, mind you!"

"Are you really coming with us to the Mountain?" Kili asked Maia. Unlike the older dwarves, he sounded excited and curious. "Are you _really_ from another world?"

"Yup," she nodded, just when the kettle started to whistle and she carefully lifted it from the hook of the lit fireplace, mindful of the heat as she moved to pour the tea. Bilbo had shown her how to do this many times, until it felt natural. It was definitely more fun than just heating a kettle over a stove.

"Ridiculous!" growled Dwalin, and she could feel him glaring at her. "It's unheard of and outrageous! Thorin was right."

"Aye," Gloin agreed, who was sitting next to Oin, "I second that."

"I don't believe that," Fili said, lowering his pipe and frowning at all of them.

"About what?" Maia faced them all, holding the steaming teacup as the tension grew again. She grew really annoyed at the dwarves for jumping to conclusions so quickly (except for Fili, anyway) and having them speak about it over her head. "Look, I still don't care what y'all think, or what your _leader_ thinks, but we're _not_ crazy and we're _not_ changing our minds, if that's what you're trying to do!"

Fili stood up, facing Maia sincerely. "I agree that Thorin's words were uncalled for, but that does not mean that we all think ill of you and your kin's sanity."

"If you were all crazy, wouldn't your brother and sister have different stories to tell?" Kili agreed. "And how much do you know about of the Lonely Mountain?"

"Next to nothing," replied Maia easily.

"There you go, then," Kili nodded. "You're neither insane, nor plotting some conspiracy. Even if you were, we'd still catch you," he added in a warning tone.

"Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer," commented Maia, smiling now. "Gotcha!"

Kili raised an eyebrow. "I never thought of that before, but I like the phrase."

"Did you make that up yourself?" asked Fili, studying her.

"Nope, it's a very old saying, back where I come from," Maia shrugged, "and it _usually_ works."

"Your sanity's the least of our worries, lass," Gloin said.

"Really? Oh, okay. Then what's the problem?"

"For starters, you're a woman!" Gloin pointed out. Infuriated, Maia opened her mouth to complain, but the red-bearded dwarf continued harshly, "You're too young, you're weaponless, and you're clearly too bloody inexperienced by all accounts! Have you ever wielded a weapon, lass?"

Maia thought back on when she stabbed the ghoul in the eye with one of her pens in the farmhouse, right before waking up in the Shire. The feeling in her hand still haunted her. Still... "No."

"Have you ever _hunted_ before?"

"No." Her dad hunted. Both in New Zealand and Texas. He had promised to teach Kyle with their family hunting rifle when her brother turned thirteen (Kyle always had good aim), but it became pointless when the man suddenly left them before that happened. "But I think Kyle nicked a bird with his BB gun once or twice," she tried, wincing at how little _that_ helped.

"What's a BB gun?" Kili asked, clearly interested, but was cut off by Dwalin's more demanding tone, "Have you ever _skinned_ an animal before cooking it?" Fili shot a disbelieving look at the big dwarf.

"I…." Maia's mouth was dry. _Skin an animal? Oh, Lord!_

"Hey, Mai, Bilbo's awake! You bringing that tea or what?" Kyle called from the sitting room, standing next to the armchair while Lori knelt on the floor.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm coming! _"_ Maia said loudly, making it clear that the conversation was over and circled around the table. "Excuse me," she said to them but, before she could stop herself, snuck a glance at Fili. He looked slightly mortified from before, but he managed a sheepish smile in her direction that made her heart flutter.

_You're doing it again, Maia girl! Stop it!_ Her face heated up, from both the awkward conversation with the dwarves and-well, the _other_ thing-she reached the armchair and handed it carefully over to a now awakened Bilbo, whose face was twitching and eyes blinking. "You alright?" she asked, bending over at his level. "You kind of gave us a scare there."

"I'm...I'm alright, fine," Bilbo said, still blinking before sipping his tea. "Thank you."

"I never saw a person faint before," Lori said breathlessly, laying her arms across one of the chair's arms with her bear in Bilbo's lap. "Does your head hurt?" Gandalf chuckled from the side, smoking his pipe.

"Not that much," Bilbo said, patting her head.

"How many fingers am I holding up?" Kyle said, holding two fingers in the hobbit's face.

Bilbo flinched and pushed Kyle's hand away in annoyance. "Two! Honestly, I'm fine! I'm _alright!"_ he assured them all. "Just-Just let me sit quietly for a moment." He sipped his tea when Gandalf stepped from the corner.

"You have been sitting quietly for far too long!" the wizard snapped. Bilbo and the Dainsons were taken aback by his strict tone. "Tell me. When did _doilies_ and your mother's _dishes_ become so important to you? I remember a young hobbit who was always off in search of elves in the woods."

"Really?" Lori squeaked, looking at Bilbo in surprise.

_"Really?"_ Kyle stated with piqued interest, looking at the hobbit at though trying to find any sign of what Gandalf indicated. Bilbo shifted uncomfortably, staring at the steam in his tea.

Gandalf nodded, walking around the room as he continued through past memories, "He'd stay out late. Come home after dark, trailing mud and twigs and fireflies. A young hobbit who would have liked nothing _better_ than to find out what was beyond the borders of the Shire."

"You _do_ like adventures!" Lori exclaimed happily, but Bilbo shook his head, pressing his mouth in a thin line. "Would the three of you mind giving us a moment alone?" he said stiffly, staring ahead, seeing nothing.

Gandalf didn't give them a chance. "What have you to hide from, Mr. Bilbo Baggins?" the wizard accused softly. "Do you deny that that I speak the truth, that you have changed much since I had seen you last? Tell me, what happened to the young hobbit, the son of a dear old friend of mine, who would have leapt at the first opportunity of an adventure?"

"What _happened?_ " Bilbo's head snapped to face Gandalf, his face tight with frustration. "He grew up," he answered harshly, voice cracking a little. "That's what. His mother and father had passed away, and he has inherited the full estate of Bag End, carrying on the family business with respect and courtesy. Adventures are no longer anything but a bother and a game to that hobbit's life."

Lori's face fell. Kyle shifted uncomfortably. Maia felt the tension in the air as their cue to leave. "Yeah, okay, we'll just go," she echoed, gathering Lori and Kyle before gesturing them quickly out of the room, leaving Bilbo and the wizard alone.

Gandalf was staring down at the hobbit, disappointed. "And yet," he said finally, "all that you keep in this room-your books, your maps, your drawings, and your pictures-speaks of long-buried desires that long to see the many colors and tidings of the world. But my dear fellow...the world is not in your books and maps," he said, his face softening now and eyes glittering with the light of wisdom. He nodded toward the window near the desk. "It's out there."

Bilbo stared the window, the glass seeming to glow from the blue beauty of the night. The glass that often brought the golden sunlight or the blue moonlight in the sitting room, revealing the view from his garden, all the way past Hobbiton, far over The Water, to the rolling green hills of the Shire and beyond. A world beyond the horizon, past the eye range of Bag End, unknown and unexplored. The idea was beautiful.

Then catching Gandalf's glittering eye, Bilbo shuddered and very quickly diminished his Tookish desire, returning to reality. "I can't just go wandering off into the blue!" he protested loudly and sternly. He put his finger down."I am a _Baggins_ of _Bag End."_

"You are also a _Took."_

Bilbo sighed and let his head fall back, hopelessly. Yes, it was true. He was a Took. Both a blessing and a curse. People never let him forget it; yet, it was something else that was a part of his dear mother.

Gandalf stood next to the portrait of a muscular, beastly featured hobbit. "Did you know that your great-great-great-great uncle Bullroarer Took was so large that he could ride a real horse?"

_Here we go._ Bilbo nodded faintly. "Yes..."

"Yes, well, he _could!"_ Gandalf insisted, in a no-nonsense voice. "In the Battle of the Green Fields, he charged the Goblin ranks. He swung his club so hard, it knocked the Goblin King Golfimbul's head clean off, that it sailed a hundred yards through the air, and went down a rabbit hole." Bilbo looked up at this, frowning at the last part. "And thus, the battle was won...and the game of golf invented at the same time," Gandalf added lightly.

_Maia, Kyle, and Lori would certainly laugh at that,_ Bilbo thought, as Gandalf sat himself in the other armchair. He smirked a little at the image of the story and shook his head. "I do believe you made that up," he concluded.

"Well, all good stories deserve embellishment." Gandalf looked Bilbo directly in the eye, the gray glowing from the warmth hearth. "You'll have a tale or two to tell of your own when you come back."

Bilbo smiled again to himself, but it was sad. He thought of the red book his grandfather gave him. The one with his initials. The one with its pages still blank. But the thought leaving the Shire terrified him more than anything, as much as partly thrilled him. "Can you promise that I will come back?" he asked.

Gandalf hesitated. "No," he whispered finally, truthfully, "and if you do, you will not be the same."

Bilbo nodded. "That's what I thought," he said, before standing up, arms stiff at his sides. "I'm sorry, Gandalf, I can't sign this. You've got the wrong hobbit." At the mention of the dragon, Bilbo had been shaken to the core; at the _description_ of the dragon's fiery breath, Bilbo had _fainted._ The very idea that Gandalf even _believed_ that Bilbo was the right one for the task was absurd and incomprehensible. The dwarves made that quite clear.

Bilbo paused before leaving. "You will take the Dainsons, will you?" he asked quietly.

Gandalf sighed tiredly and nodded. "Yes, yes, they will come. I'll keep two eyes on them if I have to."

"Lori can be a rambunctious little thing," Bilbo continued, "Kyle's stubborn and can get you on edge at times, but he can wild too. Maia is...well, she'll look after them, but she's still a girl. There's only so much she can handle. It would be better if someone looked after her, as well."

Gandalf smiled at Bilbo, sadly. "They will be disappointed that you are not coming, dear Bilbo," he said after a moment.

Bilbo stared a fireplace for a moment. He swallowed. "Yes," he said finally, "they will be. But like I said, you've got the wrong hobbit."

* * *

"'Have you ever skinned an animal before you cooked it?'" repeated Fili, glaring at Dwalin and Gloin when Maia left the kitchen. "Durin's beard! Are you all _trying_ to scare her?"

"It was necessary, laddie," said Dwalin, leaning back against the wall, undeterred. "This quest will be dangerous, and that girl has signed on for something that she's too blinded by naivety to see. If she is smart, that lass and her kin should reconsider and pull out while they have the chance."

"Oh, really?" Kili said sarcastically, standing up to side with Fili. "You're not even going to give them a chance?"

"A chance?" scoffed Gloin. "They've got no chance on their own! Didn't you hear? They've currently isolated themselves from the company, while they've got nothing to offer in the wilds! No weapons, no hunting skills, no fighting skills, nothing! My _sixty-two year-old_ young lad Gimli could do much better, but even _he_ is far too young to come along!"

" _I_ was almost left behind, as well!" said Kili, bitterly. "Thorin had claimed me too young by the time the journey was arranged, and yet here I am. I am here because of Fili." He put a hand on his older brother's shoulder. "Because of _all_ of you. If it weren't for the support from my friends...from my brother...I would still be back in the Blue Mountains. I wouldn't have been given the chance to prove myself. To help reclaim the Mountain."

It was true. Kili technically had a few more years before coming of age, and while his little brother was a terrific hunter and one the best skilled archers Fili and everyone else had ever seen in Dwarf society (especially when archery was not a proper custom to their culture), he would always be seen as a child to Thorin. To Dis, their mother.

_And to me,_ Fili thought, aware of the two inches his little brother had on him now, though it didn't add much to Kili's much slimmer frame. _Always._

"You are here because you know how to take care of yourself," retorted Dwalin. "I trained the two of you myself for decades. Thorin raised you to be who you are. Strong and proud sons of Durin, who know how to hunt, fight, and track like knowing how to eat, sleep, and breathe. _You_ were prepared. Those _children_...they won't last three days on their own."

In the hallway, outside of the kitchen, Maia was pushing Kyle and Lori gently out of the sitting room. Their expressions looked disturbed. From the sitting room, Bilbo and Gandalf were still exchanging an argument, but Fili wasn't listening. He watched as Maia turned slightly, biting her lip, looking worried as she glanced toward the sitting room. Her golden-brown hair shined from the lit candles of the house, the thin sun streaks glittering making the waves of her long tresses more lush, framing her smooth, beardless facade that seemed to glow. She had high cheekbones, a narrow chin, smooth eyebrows, a soft-portioned nose, full pink lips that easily smiled as well as they pursed, and glittering gray-blue eyes that flashed like a sword, yet were as gentle as a pale blue sky. Her human body was slim and fragile-looking but with fine curves that displayed graceful elegance, even in her PINK gray yoga pants and hooded jacket.

She looked...beautiful. For one of the race of Men.

Fili found himself blushing fiercely when he looked at her legs, which were skinny but athletic. He may not have seen many women back in Ered Luin besides his mother (there being very few dwarrow dams nowadays), but he knew for certain that whenever he did, they always wore skirts and dresses. Not that he minded Maia the way she was now...even though she wasn't a dwarf, being taller, thinner, and lacking a beard, it was hard _not_ to look at her.

Bofur sighed and Fili quickly looked away, hoping nobody noticed, but the toymaker was merely dumping the ashes of his pipe. "Well, I reckon that's settled."

"Eh?" Oin said, and Fili asked, "You think they should be left behind, too?"

"That'd be preferable," Bofur admitted, "but what I really meant is that the decent thing to do is _not_ leave them alone. If they're traveling with us, shouldn't it be up to us to make sure they see it through?"

_You always had a soft side for younglings,_ Bifur signed in Iglishmek toward his cousin.

"So do you!" Bofur shot back, but smiled while tapping the axe in the head with his pipe, causing Bifur to bat his hand away with a growl. "Why do you think we make toys for a living? And as for your words with Miss Maia," he added meaningfully to Dwalin and Gloin, "you're never going to win a dam with that roguish demeanor of yours."

"Who said I wanted one?" Dwalin said, blowing out smoke. "The only ladies I'll ever get and ever want are the ones on my back." He thumbed one of the axes still crossed there, and the dwarves laughed. He never goes anywhere without them.

Gloin only waved his hand dismissively. "That ship's sailed for me a long time ago. I can now talk to any lass as roughly as I please."

_I wouldn't say the same about Thorin,_ Bifur signed. _Every king ought to have a queen._

"That's Thorin's choice," Dwalin reminded him. "Besides, he's already got heirs in line. There's no rush. For Fili, that's a different story."

_Oh, Aule, here we go._ Fili shrugged, looking innocent while smoking his pipe. "I don't know what you mean."

"You can deny it all you want, lad, but it won't change the future."

_I know, I know._ He's heard from Balin, he's heard it from Dis, and he's heard from Thorin, ever since he truly understood the responsibilities that were placed on him as the firstborn heir of their lost kingdom. When they reclaimed it...if they reclaimed it...one of Fili's main duties as a Crowned Prince was to marry. For political reasons or personal, it didn't matter; the line had to continue. It was second thing that Fili dreaded the most, while the first was managing the burdens of the crown. Even Kili may eventually be given that duty, when it came to it.

"When did we start talking about finding dams, anyway?" teased Kili, even though he was just as secretly as uneasy as his brother. "All this coming from children and toy making, and we haven't even started the quest yet! Right, Fee?"

"Couldn't have said it better, Kee," he nodded, and then sat back down, making it the end of _that_ conversation. Fili always hoped that he would be able to find his One by the time it happened. Like his mother did toward his father. Once a dwarf found their One, there would be no other in the world that the dwarf would give their heart to, wholly, completely, and irrevocably. At least, that was how he heard it described. It was also described by some that there was a part of that dwarf that would know the first time they lay eyes on their One that they would know, but they never give the details of how.

When he looked up again, Ori was talking to Lori, Kyle, and Maia when a downhearted Bilbo suddenly walked in the hallway. _Maia._ Every time he looked at her, every time he heard her voice, his heart beat faster. He could still feel her much smaller hand in his, soft and delicate. He felt hot and cold, his mouth dry, and his own breathing caught by intrigue. But no! It wasn't possible! Dwarves were not even to associate too much with others that differ from their own race, their own culture being very secretive and preserved. It couldn't be...was it?

Fili let smoke escape when he sighed. Bofur was right, though. Part of the company or not, Maia Dainson and her younger siblings cannot be ignored. If no one else agreed-least of all, Thorin-Fili would make sure they were looked after.

* * *

Ori was very nice. She thought he was the sweetest of the dwarves, as he came up to them and started complimenting them on the fact that he had never written about humans from another world before. And best of all, and she had pointed this out earlier at dinner when he introduced himself, _their named rhymed._ At least Ori was intrigued by this idea, while his much older brothers either scoffed and rolled his eyes or shook his head in disbelief. Bombur just kept eating, but he too was watching with curiosity.

After Lori had become upset with Bilbo's outburst, during which her big sister had pushed her and Kyle out into the hallway to give the hobbit and wizard some privacy, neither of them saying a word (except when Kyle muttered, "Well, that sucked!"), they had spotted three groups of dwarves watching them from three directions. Lori could already name them all, proud of her own skill with remembering names since practicing at preschool: Fili, Kili, Dwalin, Bifur, Bofur, Oin, and Gloin were gathered in the kitchen, smoking pipes; Dori, Nori, Ori, and Bombur (who was _still_ eating the leftovers from Bilbo's pantry) were sitting together in the dining room, where the meeting had recently taken place, chatting quietly together; and at a far corner in the shadows, near the front door of Bag End, she could see the silhouettes of Balin and Thorin Oakenshield, the elder seated on a bench while the tall, dark-haired dwarf stood, leaning against one of the roots of the hole as they talked.

Lori did not know why she was afraid of Thorin Oakenshield, but she definitely knew that she was curious about him. Maybe it was his dark mood, his steely blue eyes, or the cold tone in his voice when he spoke toward her and her siblings that made her shrink away, afraid that he might hurt them for merely breathing in his presence. Maybe it was because he was unpredictable and intimidating, like Dwalin, that he was stranger that offered no sign of warmth or friendliness and was one of the those adults that hated children like her for just being little. For all these reason that made her fear this particular dwarf, even in the hallway distance, his stature was more relaxed when talking to Balin. It was not much, but it was enough for little Lori to wonder if there really was a soft side to the leader. That he really was a good person, but just forgot how to be one.

_What if he's like Daddy?_ she had thought with sudden realization. Then, missing her father for the hundredth time since his departure, she thought, _I wonder if Daddy can beat up Thorin if he were here_. She didn't know; Arthur Dainson had always been a dark, silent, and intimidating figure to most people (much like Thorin, only much taller), but to her, he was her parent. Her loving father, who lifted her on his shoulders, helped her ride a pony, told her stories, sang to her, and held her in his strong, comforting arms when she cried (or even when she was happy, and he merely held her for his own liking). She had never seen him fight….or she didn't think so (she couldn't remember). He never really scared her like Thorin did, but maybe it was because she didn't know Thorin. That had to be it.

It was then Ori had come to them and started asking about adding parts of their background in his journal, which turned out to have amazing drawings of different parts of nature, villages, and other dwarves from the Blue Mountains. They were a different technique from Bilbo's, but Maia's artistic eye complimented them.

They hadn't realized Bilbo had walked out of the room, until Ori looked up and stopped talking. Bilbo shuffled nervously and cleared his throat, looking anywhere but at them.

Ori took it as his cue to leave. "You'll think about it, won't you?" he asked Maia, Kyle, and Lori, holding up his closed journal in reference.

"Sure, Ori, it sounds cool," Maia said, smiling. Ori smiled back and nodded before rejoining his brothers in the dining room.

Bilbo opened his mouth, then closed it. He repeated the process, seeming to find the words, then losing them. "I, um..." he managed, but then rocked on his feet. "Look, I...the thing is..."

They already knew what he was trying to say. "You're not coming, are you?" Maia said, gently. Lori's heart sunk. _Oh, Bilbo..._

Bilbo let out a heavy sigh and nodded, before finally facing them. "I just don't think I have it in me," he said sadly. "Besides, it's...it's not about me, it's about getting you three home and...and I really do think Gandalf is your best hope of getting there. But Maia...are you sure that the Lonely Mountain is where-where maybe a _portal_ may be?"

"I'm not," Maia admitted, "but I'm definitely sure that it's the place we have to go to. I have no idea how or why, but if we kept dreaming about it..."

"It only makes sense that some part of the universe is trying to tell us _something_ ," said Kyle. "If some kind of supernatural force sent us, then maybe it's making sure that we know how to get back. I don't know. But it's our best shot."

"Why don't you come with us?" Lori begged Bilbo. She went over and hugged him. "It might be fun. Adventures are fun. Gandalf said you liked them before. Grown ups like adventures, too!" She hadn't missed the part when the hobbit told the wizard in defense, _"What happened? He grew up...Adventures are no longer anything but a bother and a game to that hobbit!"_

Bilbo wrapped his arms around the little girl. "I know," he said quietly, "I know, Lori, I'm sorry that I even said that, I don't know why I did, but...you have to understand. I'm a hobbit. I have a home to run. I can't just leave. I'm not that type of person. Haven't been for a long time. But I really am going to miss you. All of you, and I wish you all the luck and safety in the world." He tightened his arms around her for a minute longer and then slowly released her, patting her shoulder as she embraced her teddy bear and swiped an arm over her nose, sniffling, but she didn't cry. Not yet, anyway.

"That's a good girl," Bilbo praised, smiling momentarily, though faded. Then he turned to Kyle, and the two shook hands. The boy had his lips pressed together and his eyes down, but they sparkled, showing a shine of unshed tears. Bilbo nodded and patted the lad's arm fondly. "Alright," he managed, and then turned to Maia. The young woman had leaned down and wrapped her arms around Bilbo's neck.

"Just in case," she whispered in the hobbit's ear.

_Just in case this is good-bye._ All choked up, Bilbo nodded and hugged her back tightly.

* * *

Thorin had been discussing the prior events of the meeting in Ered Luin with Balin when he noticed down the hallway the hobbit and the three Dainson siblings embracing each other. They all looked tearful and upset. They must be saying good-bye.

It was still preposterous, bringing the human children on this quest. If they had been dwarves, Thorin would have forced them to stay behind without question. Maybe he still could, but like Maia had said, they were traveling with _Gandalf_ , not the company. One look at Maia, and he knew her to be shy and awkward, but even he had to admit it had been brave of her to speak for them all at the meeting, claiming their participation with such insistence that it was almost amusing to watch. _Almost._ The lad, Kyle, had a stout heart, no doubt, and a sharp tongue, but it would not do him well in a battle, especially when he was small and skinny for his age most likely. He reminded Thorin very much of his own little brother, who had been killed many years ago, even looked a little like him with his black hair and pale blue eyes. The little girl, Lori, was practically a babe. It had not escaped his notice that she was afraid of him. He had pretended not to care, shown them he would not be swayed…..but the little girl looked so much like Dis, like Kili, when they were small children themselves that even Thorin had to admit his heart shook a little whenever he looked at her. It was because of Lori, most of all, that Thorin wished the young Dainsons would just stay put in this hobbit hole.

When the supposed burglar, Baggins, finished embracing Maia Dainson, the hobbit patted her arm affectionately and then immediately brushed past them, strolling down the hallway with a down expression, not looking back. He left the young humans standing there. It was then the little one, Lori, burst into tears.

"It appears we have lost our burglar," Balin sighed, appearing to have noticed as well. "Probably for the best. The odds were always against us. After all, what are we?" He glanced across the hallway where the Ri brothers and Bombur sat, but were soon joined by Bifur and Bofur. "Merchants, miners, tinkers, and toymakers." He scoffed. "Hardly the stuff of legend."

Thorin agreed, but he gave his old friend a half-smile. "There are a few warriors amongst us," he reminded the advisor, meaningfully.

_"Old_ warriors," Balin said, but nodded tiredly. There were just Thorin, Balin, Dwalin and Gloin; Fili and Kili were great fighters, but they lacked the lifelong experiences of their uncle and older cousins. The rest of company were random citizens of Ered Luin-as well as lifelong friends-who had the courage, and were perhaps mad enough, to become part of the Company of Thorin Oakenshield.

When Thorin remembered his meeting at the council of dwarves, he remembered his cousin, Dain Ironfoot, attending. He remembered how the fierce warrior and lord of the Iron Hills had refused to support Thorin on his quest, claiming it to be a folly and a hopeless errand, but had wished his luck to the exiled King all the same.

When leaving the meeting and setting off to catch up with the company, with his young nephews, in the Shire, Thorin felt angry and slightly betrayed. A couple days later of traveling, his anger had tired and was now just thankful for the dwarves who had volunteered.

It warmed his iron heart as he recalled them all stepping forward in the Great Hall months ago, one by one, followed by their siblings and close cousins. Dwalin had already been meaning to come, of course, and Balin, even though it was no secret that he showed some doubts for this quest but would follow Thorin anywhere out of faith and loyalty. Fili was to come because he was Thorin's heir and was already of age, however much Thorin hated this outcome, but Kili...Kili was still a boy, but he had been the first to volunteer, despite the furious glare Thorin gave him and the protesting from Dis, his little sister.

Before Thorin would deny his youngest nephew the right (as he would keep doing so later on for quite a while afterward), young Ori had then stepped from out the crowd. Being only a couple years older than Kili, though obviously smaller and less built, he had probably thought that if Kili was allowed to go, then it wouldn't have hurt for him to volunteer and to take this opportunity in recording the quest, the story of a lifetime. Nori had stepped forward next, standing next to Ori, and then followed by a reluctant Dori, who had only been following to stop Ori but since it was too late, he joined his younger brothers.

Then stepped for Oin and Gloin together, claiming they needed a healer and a master of coin. And finally, Bofur jumped out, practically dragging his younger but larger brother, Bombur, and his injured cousin, Bifur, into the center with the rest to claim acceptance. Bofur spoke for Bombur, saying they needed a cook, and Bifur had been needing to do something crazy ever since an orc put an axe in his head. They were the only three who were not related to the line of Durin in any way, being merely commoners of the dwarves, but were undoubtedly close friends to Thorin's family, having made Fili and Kili's toys when they were dwarflings.

Thus, the Company of Thorin Oakenshield was formed.

"I would take each and every one of these dwarves over an army from the Iron Hills," Thorin told Balin truthfully, without hesitation. "For when I called upon them, they answered. Loyalty, honor, and a willing heart. I can ask no more than that," he whispered, blue eyes sparkling in the house light.

Balin stand up, looking distressed now. "You don't have to do this," he protested. Here it was, all the words that the advisor kept to himself, until now before it was too late. Thorin kept silent when he continued, "You have a choice. You have done honorably by our people. You have built a new life for us in the Blue Mountains. A life of peace and plenty. A life that is worth more than all the gold in Erebor."

Balin was not wrong, but he was not right either. Ered Luin was as peaceful and prosperous a place as any dwarf exiled from Erebor can hope for. They had built their village close to a population full of Men, worked as miners, toymakers, and blacksmiths, but there had been times when their home had been attacked by goblins, slave traders, and other foul things. Many would forget that the Blue Mountains were not as safe as they seemed. But Thorin knew what Balin really meant, or rather whom, and they were coming along with him on this dangerous quest.

Dis and his sister-sons were all he truly had left in the world. His young nephews were like his sons. They were his world, his heart and soul, worth more than all the gold in Erebor, as Balin had said. His sister could not have done better with her late husband. Thorin could not remember, nor imagine a life, in a world where his precious, cheerful, and playful sister-sons did not exist. They were his reasons for living on, after most of his family had gone.

But there had always been a part of Thorin that had been missing. That part was his home: Erebor. Ered Luin may be a home to Dis and her family, but never to Thorin. He would see his kin back in the place where they belonged, be seen as the young princes they truly were, have them look upon the halls of their fathers for the very first time...he would complete the goal that his father and grandfather had sought.

"From my grandfather to my father," he said finally, before holding up the key, " _this_ has come to me. They dreamt of the day when the dwarves of Erebor would reclaim their homeland. There is no choice, Balin." He lowered the key and looked Balin in the eye, his gaze pleading. "Not for me," he whispered.

Balin sighed. He was one of the few dwarves who see right through Thorin Oakenshield's hardened appearance, having known him since the young son of Durin was a small dwarfling, and he could see that his king was not going to change his mind. They had planned for many years. And now it was finally happening...it was inevitable. "Then we are with you, laddie."

Thorin's gaze softened and he nodded gratefully. Balin patted Thorin's arm in comfort. "We will see it done," he vowed.

* * *

They did not see Bilbo again for the rest of the evening. Later in the night, after Maia and Kyle went to quickly pack their backpacks, they came back and found the house was dark, all the candles blown out and the only sound they heard vibrated into a deep-throated chorus of voices. The sound of dwarves humming, their baritone tones making their bones hearts shiver and their bones tremble. The only light they could find came from the warmth fire in Bilbo's hearth.

"What do you think they're humming?" Kyle whispered.

"I don't know," Maia whispered back. Whatever it was, it was very different from the song they sang when tossing the dishes around. It was very moving, deep. It was beautiful.

"Come in the room and listen," a soft male voice said behind her, making both her and Kyle jump, startled when seeing Fili and Kili behind them, Fili holding a pipe while Kili held a filled mug of ale.

"Jeez, a little warning next time!" Kyle hissed.

"Sorry," Fili whispered, before glancing at Maia and smiled. He held out his hand, his golden hair and blue eyes shining in the dark. "Come. Join us."

Breathless from both looking at him and the humming of the voices that dwelled into her soul, Maia took his hand, his fingers hot against her skin, and he led her into the warm room, followed by Kyle and Kili, the younger siblings.

Lori was curled up on one of the armchairs, her head laying against the armchair and, as usual, had her bear tucked under her arm and her thumb tucked in her mouth. She was already asleep, looking sweet and peaceful. The humming must have lulled her to sleep.

Thorin was there, leaning against the fireplace with a smoking pipe in his hand. The fire's light reflected from his face, his deep blue eyes mirroring the faint light of the fire, deeply lost within his own memories and hauntings of the past. The dwarves all surrounded him, seated in all places, Balin and Bofur nearest to Thorin and Lori. Kili sat on the desk near Dwalin, Ori, and Gloin, while Fili leaned on the wall near Thorin.

Maia and Kyle silently crossed the room and sat on the base of the armchair, resting their heads near the sleeping Lori, feeling the warmth of the fire's kindling, listening to the dwarves hum in a way moved the gravity of their hearts and minds.

It was then Thorin began to sing in a deep, lulling voice:

**Far over the misty mountains cold**

**To dungeons deep and caverns old**

**We must away ere break of day**

**To seek the pale enchanted gold**

Then Balin joined with Thorin, their voices blending beautifully with truth and memory:

**The dwarves of yore made mighty spells**

**While hammers fell like ringing bells**

**In places deep, where dark things sleep**

**In hollow halls beneath the fells**

**For ancient king and elvish lord**

**There many a gleaming golden hoard**

**They shaped and wrought, and light they caught**

**To hide in gems on hilt of sword**

**On silver necklaces they strung**

**The flowering stars, on crowns they hung**

**The dragon-fire, in twisted wire**

**They meshed the light of moon and sun**

Maia listened silently. She felt Kyle's head lean on her shoulder, his breathing even and slow. As they sang, her drooping eyes drifted toward the light of the fire, watching the flames leap and breath the embers that floated all the way up the chimney and into the starry sky. She could feel someone's eyes on her; she didn't have to look to know, and it gave her a sense of peace, comfort, and wonder. As they sang, she felt the love of beautiful things made by hands and by cunning. She felt a fierce and jealous love, the desire of the hearts of dwarves.* She was pulled in deeply...by the magic that stirred within her like essence of matter, sending her further into deep thought as they hearth started to blur into merely a glowing, golden light in the darkness. All she heard was Thorin's stirring voice continue to sway her soul:

**Far over the misty mountains cold**

**To dungeons deep and caverns old**

**We must away, ere break of day**

**To find our long-forgotten gold**

**Goblets they carved there for themselves**

**And harps of gold; where no man delves**

**They lay they long, and many a song**

**Was sung unheard by men or elves**

Then Bofur, and all the other dwarves joined in, their eyes haunted with dark memory and voices moving through the air like magic:

**The pines were roaring on the height**

**The winds were moaning in the night**

**The fire was red, it flaming spread**

**The trees like torches blazed with light**

**The bells were ringing in the dale**

**And men looked up with faces pale**

**Then dragon's ire more fierce than fire**

**Laid low their towers and houses frail**

**The mountain smoked beneath the moon**

**The dwarves, they heard the tramp of doom**

**They fled their hall of dying fall**

**Beneath his feet, beneath the moon**

She closed her eyes, a tear escaping the corner. Whether from sleep or sadness, she began to nod off, feeling her brother's hair on her cheek. She missed her home. She missed her family. And, most of all, she missed her mom. They were going home...Home...

**Far over the misty mountains grim**

**To dungeons deep and caverns dim**

**We must away, ere break of day**

**To win our harps and gold from him...**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *J.R.R. Tolkien quote
> 
> This song has always enchanted me to no end. Richard Armitage's voice is no doubt epic. I just wished they sang the entire song in the movie, so I decided to add the version from the book, since it's pretty much the same. It also gives the story of the dwarves' background, before and during the time their kingdom was attacked by Smaug, since I didn't write the prologue scene. There might be flashbacks later on, though.

**Author's Note:**

> Sindarian translation:
> 
> I must go. My heart shall weep until I see you again. I love you, Laura. Farewell!*


End file.
